To the boy who can
never keep his big mouth shut, who is surprised when he is beaten down by the
wrath of his peers:
What would you do if
one day that good hiding got you a broken leg? Would you fly away and cry?
Like a bird pushed
out the nest.
You feel sorry for
yourself like the world owes you a favour when times are tough. So why make them
so tough in the first place?
You have yourself to
blame.
Maybe you do have all
the right answers most of the time. But who is going to listen when you spit
them at people’s faces in a torrent of fury and self importance?
Have you learnt
nothing from the religious zealots that you chastise so brashly, and cold?
It is not that the
shoe is on the other foot, but the foot seems to be perpetually on the wrong
side of the body – turning you round in circles.
If you flew away with
a broken leg, would you come back anew with a spring in your step, once you had
hit rock bottom?
Will you ever learn?
