Once upon a time, I used to get angry with everything.
With how I failed, My failures, My attempts at success — Which resulted in nothing but failure.

And then, there was my mother. Who showed me the mirror.
That it was not the failure I hated, But my laziness.

My non-hard work. My waiting — For results, Without doing the hard work.

That was the main reason I failed. Which I knew… maybe somewhere inside. And then — She showed me the truth.

The books I tore — Because I felt they were not helping. Or maybe… I knew deep inside I never studied them properly.

But when I woke up the next day, I found the book taped together — Still having the scar, But still intact, Just like mother’s heart.

I am sorry, mother.

I will surely become the best version of myself.
Even better than the version You show me in the mirror.