Victims

Amidst every physics equation, there stays a  renowned writer
 whose wings are tied up by the agonizing strings of society..

Amidst every chemical reaction, a painter..
 who only dreams of creating fine magic with that brush.

In every new plant name we mug up, there hides a musician
who can arouse life through the strings of his instruments

The person doing calculus out there is actually a wanderer
ready to give up everything to set himself free..

That political science book is often read by a 'could be' scientist
 but his parents want him to be a civil servant and not a fellow explorer.

Not every history major guy wants to be a historian..

Standing in the botany lawn, I think of that stethoscope I always wished to wear someday..

To the guy at the corner, holding a brush seems a lot easier than holding that test tube.

A potentiometer doesn't excite the dead writer as much as a pen could have..

We are all captives of each other's mindsets, held up by the forces of our own insecurities.. 

Futures being decided by people who were themselves the victims of this bar code ritual.. in the name of experience, we are being fooled by those who themselves got fooled by their elders.

Little by little, those dreams are becoming fragile and brittle. 

And we are just on the edge of collapsing into a singularity of nothingness   

Set O! Set us free from the chains of your frail mentality.
Give us some air, some sunshine.. Along with which, the dreams shall crawl in.. 

We were born to shine

And age like fine wine..