What was I made for

sitting in the library,

realising my futility.

Students in my class carry their 

heavy books of physics,chemistry and maths

Their eyes filled with ambition,

mine of hopelessness.

Their mind ready to take the knowledge from the books

mine silent

Their silence a loud preparation

Mine a testament of my loss

often when I come to the library

I sit in the corner next to the history books

I read the same 'ICSE History book' everytime

and reflect on my life that sci has changed

I am made to realise I don't belong anywhere,

everytime I come to the library.