A Paradox
They’re all too sharp and bright. Sedulous kids.
Rich parents raised them. Teachers, old and wise,
preserve their greatness. Even fate forbids
ill luck from harming them. Wealth in their eyes.
Their days are filled with butter, nights with cream,
and afternoons with friend groups having cars
bigger than their parents’. When they dream,
they dream of drinking, boogying in bars.
And I, a fading optimist, was told
that hardships and discomfort shape a man,
yet here I am still waiting, growing old
and thinking of the hour I began.
These teenage kids have never battled pain
yet vanquished it, gained more than what I’ve gained.
Shamik Banerjee is a poet from Assam, India, where he resides with his parents. His poems have been published by Sparks of Calliope, The Hypertexts, Snakeskin, Ink Sweat & Tears, Autumn Sky Daily, Ekstasis, among others. He received second place in the Southern Shakespeare Company Sonnet Contest, 2024.
Shamik, an observation well-expressed with echoes of Job and Solomon (Ecclesiastes) who felt much the same (as have I). Yet flames, while beautiful, when they have consumed their host leave little behind but ash. You, I suspect, will leave behind something more substantial if nothing more than the legacy of your verse! And as for pain and hardship, one cannot vanquish what one has not faced. Only those who have fought their way to the top of the mountain can fully appreciate, enjoy and embrace the beauty of the view.