Standing in that corner the boy looks at the group
A group laughing hard at him. He's just turned fifteen, it's his birthday today
He hates being at home.
Maybe getting few friends would help him get over the bruises of his mom
Scars of every night, mourns of every morning
He shaves, cut his jeans, listens pop, watches series. Everything which might make him seem cooler
Very soon the group had a new member!
Nights were ignored by the punk Rock in the earphones
Mornings went unnoticed with the phone always beeping
Darwin after all was right I suppose.
Mom had not spoken for a week, no one cared anyways
Cooking for the men was all she was doing.
'Mom I need some money.'
'I don't have it son, your father keeps it.'
Eyes swollen, scar under the eye.
The most beautiful lady of the family looked horrific
'The fuck. You are useless!' door slammed The earphones were in their place once again
'Mrs. Anita is no more. She died five hours ago' Doctor declared.
A soul had departed overnight.
Standing in the corner boy looks at the group
This time the group of elderly ones
Discussing why she would slit her wrist.
The boy never recovered!
YOU ARE READING
Social Validation
PoetryThis will be a series of short stories in form of unattached poetry on the urge felt by everyone to be valdidated socially by a group or the society. This often turns into something wreckless.
