imagine your experience of first seeing a new baby boy.
imagine him coming out, fresh, crying, new.
imagine bringing him home in your arms, proud to call him your son.
imagine cuddling him in a shawl.
imagine comforting his fears with lullabies.
imagine him, a sleeping angel in the cot.
imagine teaching him how to open his mouth for the incoming spoon with glop.
imagine his first attempt to walk.
imagine his first successful attempt to walk.
imagine his first word.
imagine his first night without sucking his fingers.
imaging his first night without twilight cries.
imagine his first vacation with the family.
imagine his first model toy.
imagine his first visit to the nursery.
imagine his first friends.
imagine his first visit to primary school.
imagine the first teacher - prayer meeting.
imagine the complains.
imagine his first piece of homework.
imagine helping him with his first piece of homework.
imagine his first project.
imagine doing most of his project.
imagine his first examination results.
imagine him joining a sport.
imagine him getting into the school team.
imagine him in a competition.
imagine him winning.
imagine the times you scold him.
imagine the times you drive him home.
imagine the times you eat with him.
imagine the times he scolds you back.
imagine your deepest frustrations at times.
imagine his psle preparation.
imagine his psle papers.
imagine his psle results.
imagine his good psle results.
imagine his great excitement.
imagine opting him for a well-off school.
imagine his first day at the school.
imagine the new friends he makes.
imagine his new interest in a sport.
imagine having to pay 3k for his own laptop.
imagine going for track and field competitions.
imagine scolding him for not completing assignments on time.
imagine screaming at him for finding pornography in his computer.
imagine beating him for the first time.
imagine picking him up 3 days a week from training.
imagine talking to him in the car about the day.
imagine talking to him about his life.
imagine his deteriorating examination results.
imagine his late work.
imagine his poor-quality projects.
imagine the corruption of his character.
imagine his time being sucked away by his sport.
imagine him picking him up one day.
imagine him getting into the car all stinky, sweaty.
imagine his cheerfulness.
imagine driving home.
imagine driving home through the traffic, the red lights, green.
imagine rushing past the orange.
imagine him shutting the car door.
imagine him gleefully announce his presence to the household.
imagine collecting your thoughts.
imagine calling your husband.
imagine asking your boy to sit down.
imagine the puzzlement on his face.
imagine you and your husband, sitting on one couch.
imagine him looking at both of you, on another opposite.
imagine telling him that you both want him to quit.
imagine telling him that you want him to quit his sport.
imagine his face morph.
imagine spending half and hour scolding him.
imagine the rants on time.
imagine the rants on discipline.
imagine the rants on character.
imagine the rants on respect.
imagine the rants on priority.
imagine the rants on friends.
imagine the concluding statement.
imagine his argument.
imagine your shouts.
imagine his shouts.
imagine your screams.
imagine him dash up to his room.
imagine going on with other activities.
imagine hoping he'll think clearly.
imagine hoping he'll quit his sport.
imagine hoping he'll resolve to focusing on studies.
imagine him running downstairs again.
imagine him shouting that as real as you were his mother, his life wasn't worth living.
imagine him dash back up.
imagine him dash back with one last look of hatred, chaos and distress.
imagine your screams.
imagine your sprint after him.
imagine yourself praying right there and then.
imagine your cries after him.
imagine your desperation.
imagine your arrival at his room.
imagine him running towards his open window.
imagine your last desperation.
imagine your last cries.
imagine your outstretched arm just two metres away.
imagine a figure just descend.
imagine his smile.
imagine his words.
imagine his laughter.
imagine his candids.
imagine his humour.
imagine his quotes.
imagine him coming out of your womb.
imagine his first walk.
imagine cuddling him in your arms.
imagine his face.
imagine his face as you were talking to him thirty minutes ago.
imagine him.
imagine.
imagine.
Note:
This poem is a tribute to Tan Wen Yi.
It is not based on his life, it is just inspired by it.
The characters in the poem are fictional.
This post is not intended as an insult to anyone, be it his parents or him.
I respect them both.
Dear Wenyi,
Hey man, if you can see this-
I don't know why or where
(my opinions don't matter),
but that's up to God.
I'm sorry, Wenyi,
I am.
Trust Him,
ryan
6 comments:
this is so sad, what kind of a society do we live in that 15yr old kids live under such pressure cooker that a child thinks that life is not worth living? so sad.... i hope your friend rest in peace. i hope all parents, teachers, guardians out there learn from this .... thank you for reminding the adults who will read your blog and your heart wretching post. i cried when i read your post. the pain will never go away but I pray that you will continue to use your powerful words to reach out to the people around you. you have a wonderful gift from God. i pray that you will be strong and be a source of strength to your friends around you. God bless you
hello! ahh...goshh this is so sadd. so touching ah your post. from like the moms view ): so painful reading it, gosh. take care alright (:
there indeed is so much more to life then school homework cca uyo prefects and all. ): ahh. i get stressed so easily. i cant imagine what his parents had to go through looking at what happened to their son, their own flesh and blood literally disappearing in front of their eyes. POOF. gone, ahh. this is so sad. i feel like crying. now my problems seem so surface-y compared to this. sighh :/ take care ah you! (im quite scared for some people after this incident. hopefully they dont learn from it at all!)
theres still so much more to studyy :S mugger lifeeee. >.<
joelyap!
My ACJC 1 son came home the other & told me that a boy from his ex-school had commited suicide. I was so shocked & saddened. A young boy with so much ahead of him & yet so hurt & disllusioned with life that he jumped. I cried when I read your tribute to Wen Yi. I hope that Wen Yi is at peace now and with the Lord. God bless you.
please share this with your friends
http://www.youthcare.sg/issues/2.php
my heart goes out to his parents.. the guilt and anger they must feel.
Imagine, that you saw him everyday, walking in and out of the estate to school with that good smile and polite wishing before walking past the guard house, imagine that he walk back home and wishing you "hello uncle" on the way back from school.... and an hour later, you heard a loud bang only to realised that this courteous boy was lying motionless on the floor....I tried to forget, but i cant..cos i imagine too much.
Post a Comment