The man with the voice, the rage, the stick
The boy under his roof, the child, the innocent
The man with a vision, a family, a job
The boy caught under his spell, his misgivings, his misery
From drops to barrels, from rags to riches... the man became
Socially withdrawn and forgotten; ... the boy became
Slowly from boys to men; the metamorphosis of rage
Slow to anger he writes of the man he remembers...
'The rot began a long time ago
Slowly tearing the fiber out of his heart
Till it was left hollow on the inside
So that his deeds poured forth with worms
And irked living dignity'
He too, the boy, have become: mean, damaging and discontent
His father, the man, has also just died old and bitter
Not a second now to reconcile with the man
In fury and rage he writes:
'Deep within the disgust brews
Lemon or lime nothing can change this bitter news'
Leaving in memory for his boy this convo with his father:
'Shame you... you have shamed me'
From the mountain top, the boy reflects upon his father’s ways
Upon a painting of family he'd carried always and notes:
'The canvass hides something of what I see
Of a romantic painting, null and void
The voice of the boy, fine as day
Yet his occasion is folly and foul'
'How could you have treated one of yours this way? '
Speaking out loud, he cries his reconciliation in a final verse
'I forgive you father! '
Quite interesting. There are many emotions put into this one, it makes for good poetry. You continue to write beautifully.
Beautiful and bitter at the same time it feels like a personal experience very expressive and emotional, I enjoyed reading it.
i can somehow relate to this and the work's wonderfully worded. amazing!
no father is perfect but the love is always there nice depiction i like your writing so strong kepp it up man
Very moving, if only as humans we could have more understanding, enjoy a vision where we enpower each other with strength wisdom and love
Dear David, This is a wonderful poem. The marvelous wisdom of the son is a fantastic ending. Once I read: there is not any snakebite that kills. It is not the bite that is dangerous to our lives. It is the venom that runs around in our veins that kills us. So is it with hatred. If we allow the venom of hatred to run around in our veins and brains, it will continue to damage us. Whatever happened (whichever bite) will heal if we stop the venom. What a great message in your poem! What a great son!
Scars run deep; forgiveness? It is cathartic and the finer attribute of the better man. Nice poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow wonderful job. the emotions, words is so powerful and strong. get imagery and you put your thoughts and everything about this poem is good.10++