Why was he never good enough?
Why was he unable to meet her expectations?
His arms weren’t long enough, his sight not good
enough. He wasn’t good at speaking, never understood, didn’t obey. Nothing he
did was good enough. There was always a flaw, a smudge in every little action,
every little doing. Nothing was done the right way. It was as if he didn’t
listen when someone talked to him, and hence he did everything wrong. Why on
earth wasn’t he able to do everything, as she wanted him to?
Those thoughts were continually roaming through her
mind.
What has she done to deserve such a good-for-nothing
son?
After listening to his mom’s lecture, reproaching him
each of his actions, he walked towards his room and entered that place full of
failure and insufficiency, while a burning teardrop slipped through his
insufficient cheek.
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