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We don’t expect astoundingly extraordinary gifts from
you; not even the most infinitesimal of bountiful
commemorations,
But at least don’t mercilessly trample over all the
extraordinarily majestic that we tirelessly endeavor
to shower upon you; at least don’t do that sin to your
severely ailing and old parents; dear children….
We don’t expect compassionately invincible hugs from
you; not even the most diminutive tear-dropp of
heart-rendering empathy,
But at least don’t ruthlessly disown all our
invincibly unshakable embraces towards you; at least
don’t do that sin to your inevitably decrepit and old
parents; dear children…
We don’t expect brilliantly insuperable victories from
you; not even the most fugitive speck of altruistic
martyrdom that would do us and our country proud,
But at least don’t hedonistically spit on our
indomitably unblemished victory of so royally
procreating you; at least don’t do that sin to your
disastrously maimed and old parents; dear children…
We don’t expect insurmountably infallible reverence
from you; not even the most beguiling trace of
sacrosanct dedication and honesty towards us,
But at least don’t demonically desecrate over our
timeless prayers for your eternal betterment; at least
don’t do that sin to your penuriously hapless and old
parents; dear children..
We don’t expect impeccably glorious truthfulness from
you; not even the most evanescent trump card of
unassailably burgeoning success,
But at least don’t barbarously decimate our unshakably
perpetual truthfulness for you; at least don’t do that
sin to your miserably withering and old parents; dear
children….
We don’t expect the entire wealth on this fathomless
Universe from you; not even the most ephemeral castles
of unchallengeable solidarity and heavenly ambrosia,
But at least don’t insidiously annihilate the castle
of royally celestial dreams that we had constructed
solely for you; at least don’t do that sin to your
uncontrollably shivering and old parents; dear
children…
We don’t expect unceasingly endowing verses of
symbiotic poetry from you; not even the most
abstemious chunk of priceless humanity towards us,
But at least don’t satanically transgress across our
perennial love for you; at least don’t do that sin to
your helplessly staggering and old parents; dear
children….
We don’t expect everlastingly fragrant sharing from
you; not even the most disheveled wisp of support
towards us in treacherously cataclysmic apocalypses,
But at least don’t lecherously chop our hands which
wanted to forever exist only to regally protect you;
at least don’t do that sin to your impoverishedly
orphaned and old parents; dear children…
We don’t expect blissful rides on your exuberant
shoulders; not even the most bedraggled piece of
fructifying sublimation from you,
But at least don’t diabolically torch our lips which
knew nothing but to smile only for you; at least don’t
do that sin to your flagrantly disabled and old
parents; dear children…
And we don’t expect marvelously reinvigorating
fireballs of breath from you; not even the most
deteriorating corridor of optimistic light in your
eyes for us,
But at least don’t hedonistically snap the fangs of
our life which we lived every unfurling minute solely
for you; at least don’t do that sin to your
despairingly blinded and old parents; dear children
(c) (r) copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. all rights reserved.
Nikhil Parekh
Read poems about / on: children, honesty, success, poetry, smile, light, child, dream
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