Think About It Sons Poem by akram saqib

/////ESPECIALLY FOR FATHER, S DAY


A tale I heard
From my dad

Of a father
And his lad

The father was old
And have sold

His time at
The rate of fate

Together they abode
But were electrode

In their thoughts
There were large slots

They quarrel always
As the waves with bays

Between them
Was no emblem

Of love and respect
And no aspect

The son one day
Decided to throw away

His dad from his house
Like a mouse

He tied him in sack
Put the sack on his back

The dad was on the shoulder
Like a boulder

Decided the son to throw
At some place very low

Get rid of him
Along the lake's brim

The son reached the shore
And was unable to walk more

Put the sack on the ground
And looked all around
He was to bury his father
But could not do rather
Father preempted risk
And yelled out in brisk
When the son untied ropes
Went away his hopes
But as an effort last
He speaketh very fast

O my son
I have done
The same task
That you ask
This is the place
Where lies my grace
Of my childhood
With whom in this wood
I doth played
And have made
A lot of fun
And have run

But oh! In old age
In a fit of rage
I buried him
At this brim
Where you dig
Beneath this ridge

I request thee
Must me burry
But some distance away
As here my father does lay

It was a shock
To that dried rock
In the dusk's dark
When awakes the lark
He brought the dad back
Buried the empty sack


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