(Image Source: Pixabay)
You taught me how to make paper boats,
The piece of paper,
Deftly folded at the centre,
Your thumbs would press the right places
To create the perfect vessel that glided along
The muddy puddles, with the elegance
Of a swan.
But I wasn’t as good.
My paper boats, like a helpless dinghy in the midst of a raging storm,
Wobbled, and dwindled, and finally drowned.
Were those childhood boats, a metaphor
For our lives ahead?
While growing up together,
We grew apart.
Remember, how we’d rush back from school?
You, to play football with the other boys
I, to sit at the balcony with a book,
Carefully reading all your movements.
Waiting for those precious moments
When you’d look up
Or rush towards me–tired and thirsty.
We had a common tution teacher who
Confirmed my beliefs that
I wouldn’t amount to much.
You were a loyal friend though,
Trying to lift me up, even
Letting me cheat.
I never liked studying,
Didn’t see the point.
Finally, when you left for college
And all I was left with
Were poems about you
I’d write those on paper
And then fold them into imperfect boats
They’d set sail to reach you
Collapsing somewhere along the way
Never quite reaching you.