Predicament

What am i trying to prove,
I question myself frequently
answers seem so galore
which keep on flashing intermittently

but there I lie in conundrum
which option to fall back on
Am I worth all these thoughts
or just some whims of days bygone

nothing sustains itself forever
the glimmer soon subsides
I am a loner in crowd of billions
where thoughtful adroits commit suicides

I may have something to show
but who cares to remember
the greats struggle to find a mention
day in and day out from January to December

I have decided finally to tread my own path
the one which saw very few succeeding
but the impetus lies on me -
to be led or be the one who is leading

Mother

My mother says that I am beautiful,
but what was that which i saw yesterday.
That can be anything but beautiful.

Now I know that all these years I was fooling her,
with deception and alacrity,
making her believe that I am the best.

But only one person knows the truth.
I can look into the mirror but not into her eyes,
because I can get mirrors which can make me look better,
but not those eyes which waited in anticipation and hope
to see how would I look like when I enter into this world.

Those eyes are the first to have lost the world for me,
and I can't afford to make them loose more.

I have decided, I will tell her everything,
because only then will I be patient.
Afterall she is my mother.

Then, I wake up with a jerk to see my mother's hands on my forehead
and I indeed felt that I am beautiful.