WHAT TO WRITE, WHAT TO WRITE

I have been thinking all night
What to write, what to write?
My mother has tears in her eyes
My father is seeing red
But I sit there with no writings
Only tears to shed
In the morning my father said
“In the evening both of us will sit”
Hearing that my head went hot
And my mother nearly had a fit.
Mom became ill at once
My mind was filled with fear
For I didn’t have a single thing
For my father to hear.
My dear father returned home
To read my original talent
But all he found was trash
Nothing to give him contentment.
So he started bashing me
The way people beat cream
Suddenly I fell down from the bed
And realized it was all a dream.
I have many writings to show many poems to be liked
Thank God it was only a dream I said and sighed.