Whenever
I tread an errant path
My feet falter
For I fancy I hear father
His gruff grating voice
I love I fear
Calling me from behind
By my name
Whenever
I knock on a wrong door
My knuckles freeze
For I fancy I hurt father
His rough weathered heart
I love I fear
The spring board
I leapt from
Sometimes
On the way
When they hound me
Or hurt me
Beyond I can bear
I warn the unkind Gods
Like I used to the bullies
I will tell my father
Sometimes
When I look into his
Tired distant gray eyes
I feel guilty I haven’t loved
Father enough
...I feel safe and small
I haven’t grown
Beyond being his son
V K Rajan
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you really write well rajan sir.some of your poems really hits me hard.
ReplyDeleteI am happy you enjoy my writings. I however, do not write (or paint) consistently. I get the mood at times and it lasts for a few days.
ReplyDeleteVery touching and it reminds me of my dear father
ReplyDeleteThank you. I am glad you like it.
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