Returning home filled with joy
Holding that honor up close
I was jumping around like a toy
Chanting those expressions of prose
The stage was glorifying, so was I
Anxious, teary, conceited and famed
Standing there wordlessly, I try
To thank, and acknowledge being named
“Upbringing four, bordered by grime
Maa died soon, separating the rest
Convincingly I indulged in crime
Wrecking the right, failing the test
I chose what she mumbled on her deathbed
Clutching those words to decontaminate
‘Destiny is choice, son; not chance.’ she said
And I laugh, upon the state of my fate”
While sitting on the couch I stare, I pry
What an irony for this memento to fray
I wish it wasn’t true, particularly the wry
“Well played, well played indeed.” I say
And I laugh again, upon the state of my fate.
