Forlorn, the sky wept
But not all miseries on earth were swept;
Hastened to its end
Was the day – and his life;
The eyes were wet
The face was set
Fate, for sure, was deft
Fooled by life
The man sat-
Trying to figure out
The futility of his ways-
Memories stung,
Relentless and determined.
He heard (or fancied he could hear)
‘The Bard of Avon’ singing:
“It is sharper than a serpent’s tooth
To have a thankless child”.
He had starved, as they ate
He had shed unseen tears, as they smiled
Life was bitter, depressing
For them, it was sweet.
He put at stake
His life, his youth and his dreams.
Time fled- Changing the flutter of his mind to silence.
Their paths diverged from his.
He was no longer their dad
But that old man who sneezed and snored
Too insignificant to be exhibited.
Still he never ceased to love
His precious little ones
The love – sweet and self-consuming.
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