“My heart is happy, my mind is free. I had a father who talked with me.” I never claimed to be a saint, pure or holy Or attempted to justify any perennial self-worth Lest you subject one to that incessant beady glance Those eyes… what do they see? In search of an identity you have taken many paths Now we share doorsteps but remain worlds apart Feeble minded attempts at lacklustre conversation Talk is cheap… so why be bothered? A heart of flustering daggers, much sharper discernment You were the day one fan with front row tickets Till the mindset evolved and questions were asked Can you tell lies… how credulous are you? Nervously I replied: I am infallible as the next man Bound by deceit and parcelling ill intent with each advance I apologise; I only sought deliverance from all my faults The student leaves…