A Letter

It's late at midnight I'm writing a letter solitude is my refuge and I write to my father this letter I'm writing to clear some of your notions I'm a poet by taste so, I'll write with rhymic dispositions I write to tell you that I've come of an age winds here blow as free yet I live in a cage... my friends are asleep some of them are snoring I had to write at midnight coz my solitude keeps the sun ignoring I've made friends some of whom fake relations o! yes, I have many friends but I failed to get companions vainglorious are people here vaingloriousness leaves them scared I study in a college and no one teaches-"ego makes war" ...