My Better Half Poem by Kishore Asthana

Whose cries I hear at night, whose sighs I hear
Whose sobs break my heart, whose grief and fear
Whose dry eyes I see through, whose stoic pose anew
Whose silent screams I hear aloud, whose smiles grow so few
Whose courage fails and good cheer dies
The light has dimmed in whose lovely eyes

Yet

Who is rich beyond our dreams
in ways the poets describe
Yes, it is you and you and you, the women of my tribe

Why is it that we are so callous and so blind?
Why is it that we are so cruel to our kind?
Time grinds your dreams, sometimes exceedingly fine
But the hand that turns the stone
Is often yours and mine!