The 97.8% Gamble: When a Footballer Defied His Father to Become a Pharmacist

The youth leaps dreams over fences high,
Ball in left hand, paddle raised to sky.
A father's shadow watches from the pane
A bird fearing for his wildflower's strain.

Books abandoned for chessboard's fight, While Time's thief stole hours in plain sight. Torn between the black and white squares' call, He chased wonder, forgetting study's thrall

A sun-bright score: 97.8 stands tall,
Unshakable as mountains, stunning all.
A tear on paper – father's doubt confessed,
While mother's smile wore wonder as her vest

At Fate's crossroads, shadows hesitate:
Does Pharmacy hold storms you'd navigate?
His hand flutters, wounded sparrow's flight,
Twixt Duty's chains and Challenge's light

The pen struck down like arrow's might,
Splitting "Pharmacy" through doubt's night.
That choice rang loud in valleys deep and vast,
Defying shadows the future cast.

*A transcript shines with gold perfection,*
Held in hands marked by time's affection.
Through trembling fingers, silence spoke the quest:
Where lies the stone that weighed upon your chest?

Tears Tears like stars in eyes that finally see,*
Reading lines of silent legacy:
In this alchemist who turned doubt to gold,
All existence finds its reason told.