My mother gave me a Portuguese name,
yet, I cannot pronounce it to this day,
maybe to others, it is all the same,
only, I cannot comprehend this game,
the fact is, I am dull and slow, they say,
however, my mother gave me this name,
everyone else knows, I am not to blame,
really, who's to say I speak the wrong way,
given my childhood, it is all the same,
ask me if I care, all I feel is shame,
very much, I wish I knew how to pray,
even though, my mother gave me this name,
mention it to her, she laughs like a dame,
everyone thinks I'm dumb, but who are they,
as I pen these words, it is all the same,
none of this matters if I never came,
although you know, I was born in Bombay,
measure my travels, it is all the same,
endless pain, my mother gave me a name.
No comments:
Post a Comment