Through death we learn how precious life is.
We are given the gift of your first and last home.
With the first cut, your struggles, your joys and your scars are all revealed.
And we see you.

We see the physical pieces, tissues and organs that you inhabited.
The lungs that expanded with your first breath and collapsed with your last.
The heart that beat for the first time in synchrony with your mother's.
The womb in which you created life.

But when we see you,
We also find foreigners who took your space for themselves.
The cancers which suffocated and starved you.
Sutures, scars, and remnants of past surgeries intended to extend your life.
Abnormalities and deformities that not only defined your perfect imperfection, your humanness,
But also evicted you from your physical being.

So lucky are we to learn from you.
So indebted are we to you
For your generosity and humility.
Like all great teachers, you have made great sacrifices in the name of education.
And for that we are truly grateful.

While your ears cannot hear our "thank-you"
We know you are listening and watching over us
As we pursue the knowledge and empathy we need
To become great doctors.

in the stillest moments of the night,
when the only company i have
are broken pencils and broken thoughts
and the only light in my vision
is my laptop, the blankness
taunting me,
i have an indescribable urge
to prove myself.

my soul, that space in my chest,
tells me to fight.
fight what? where? i ask,
wisps of my hair twining
between my tired fingers.

(my fingers are tired; of writing, of
those moments when
you can't envision your future
so you assume it's dead.)

that space in my chest replies,
quiet and determined:
fight the voices
in your ear,
telling you each and every way
you'll amount to nothing.
fight them, and win
simply because
you can.
fight expectations
prove those who
told you each and every way
you'll amount to nothing
wrong.
come out on top.
laugh in their faces.
prove you can fight. prove you can last.

prove you can win.

We're here now,
and theres more than the two of us.
But there's one feeling, and the same ache
yet different struggles
- * -
We all think the same things,
yet in different tongues.
The histories do not include us.
Our taste buds have had to adapt to the wind here,
we have learnt from the best of the chameleons.
- * -
It's the same stage set up and the curtains were never drawn,
but our eyes see a completely different story being played out.
Collective whispers greater than a shout.
Peace of mind has been a while, it'll take long...
Home isn't where the heart is, when the heart keeps moving around.

I would rather stay at home,
And make five poems in a day.
Than to go to school,
And face a teacher with dismay.

Learn to learn –
from your success but especially mistakes
from your friends but especially enemies
from your acquaintance but especially strangers
from the big events but especially small ones
from your teachers but especially peers
from the easy things but especially difficult ones

When you learn –
learn to focus on just learning and nothing else
learn to learn from any and every circumstance
learn to just learn inspite of appreciation or criticism
learn to leave your ego completely
learn to blindly follow the prudent guru
learn to be the best among all in learning

I came here and hoped
to find something meaningful.
I did and I didn't.
Even if I didn't find my life
I did knew something divine
surrounded my mind.
All of things, all of lives
provoked me to see
how beautiful days had been.

I stare out the window of my usual spot
Sitting here at jack, thinking for naught
In about two years i will have graduated.
Excluded from this world with which i have Become infatuated.

It’ll all be over.
And these are the best years of your life
What will i say i did, or learned?
How many important things will come to mind?

I sit Here alone now.
Suddenly feeling so alone
Both at school and home.
What happened to the dramatic final bow?

Will i feel This alone the rest of my life?
Will it ever change
Or will it always stay the same.
I feel Like I’ve been stabbed with a knife.

My future that I’ve looked forward to for so long
Only a trace, a taste, the rest is gone.
Time seems to move too fast.
Or maybe I’m just stuck in a trance.

16 years come and gone.
To do it all over again, my soul yearns and longs.
But i can Only admit I’ve done this to myself
My hiding away on the high up shelf.

I left When i got Attached,
Being able to stay is something I lack.
So yes i am Alone,
Both at school and at home.

But I’ve brought this upon myself
So I’ll deal with this hell in and of itself.