To My Papa Poem by muhammed medhat

I love the way you order me..i love the way you shout
the way you teach me life..when i seem to fool about



as my memory turns back the pages
as you've always been my close friend
throughout those years, those ages
you'll forever guide me till the end



there's nothing like the love you offer
a debt of gratitute i'll never repay
it makes me feel weak it makes my heart suffer
it's the kind of love i have nothing to say



ever since i was a happy child
when we used to play with my toys
till the age i'm furious and wild
you were there to share my troubles, my joys



you were there to defend me when i was weak
you were there to support me when i'm strong
but really there are no words left to speak
to show my sorrow for treating you wrong



oh how a burden i've been on you
and of all your worries i'm always the root
i'll ask you something i know is overdue
isnt it time for me to be your tree of fruit?



a tree you've been waiting a long time to grow
to give out its juicy fruit and seeds
and of your effort, your patience it may show
but now it's old enough that nothing it needs



however its fruit havent yet gone ripe
its leaves havent yet gone green
i wish your tears i could wipe
for regretting having me by others seen



i know i've always been your source of pride
but now i'm bringing you shame
so please in your arms let me hide
without any shouting or blame



i promise someday i'll be the one you want me to
someday somehow i'll lift your head up high
i'll then see myself through you
i promise i will before the day i die








Muhammed medhat 8-12-2009