Son's Repentance - Poem by Jahan zaib
Confused and lost he wandered the whole day
From street to street all through town
Having no aim, knowing no destination
Wasting hours doing deeds destructive
Spending time in companies unknown
Whistling on the way, kicking stone
In autumn when all things dried up
He sat to a trunk leaning back
Looking at the leafless branches above
Eyes got wet thoughts scattered
Like leaves in wind cold spreading
On deserted empty road
He gazed a sight dimmed by the warm tears
An old lady waiting late at night
On the door trembling with fear unknown
'Stay not too late son' said she.
'Till I am alive', added, 'it kills me'
World has become bad innocent child
Out of arms mine all things wild
'Don't be over sensitive' he said
'I am grown up not a kid'
Came a voice from under the leafless tree
Like a child weeping for his broken toy
Roaring loud, drops of tears
Flooding from his eyes
Tsunami on the rise
Much larger in the size
Crying heart out. He says
Come back! Please come back!
Scold me, Smack me or punch me
Let me not go out
Shout at me,
Promise! I'll never be late
Come back, out of
Your arms, it's bad. It's very bad
MOM. MY LOVELY MOM
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