When father came home,
Weary and tired,
No one said welcome,
All we could see is things not done.
No one to appreciate the little great things done.
When father came home,
With his clothes torn,
And trying to hid the bleeding scars,
No one dared ask
About what happened.
All we wanted were our wants.
When father came home,
Weary and retired,
No one dared to care,
The old man once selfless
In loneliness he sank-Died sad.
When father came home next,
In a casket he lay,
Suddenly, all seemed to care.
With flowers rainbow
Each child stood
Beside the casket,
Beside the grave.
I was missing, I couldn't stand pretending
Because of just a simple photo
For a memory which will haunt.
A father who cared for children who didn't care.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem