This time
I held his hand tight
He is my only son
He sensed my grip.
I looked up
his visage and stammered,
'Please take me back, to our home'
And I just mused, No more stay here
In this geriatric Prison, my son.
My mused mots
Must have wielded
His mute mind.
He gave back a look
J'ai compris,
Tout de suite.
Still, I begged
'Please take me back, to our home'
He loosened grip
And went away
The gait greeted me
A long good-bye.
That night I shot
A question to my Maker, 'Why didn't you bless me with a daughter? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Still, I begged 'Please take me back, to our home' He loosened grip And went away The gait greeted me A long good-bye.---A touching write.