how did you find the strength
to look your mother in the eye
when your father lay peacefully
wrapped in the white cloth
with his body turning blue
from the strains on his dead heart,
a life buried before the body.
I felt your clammy hand
and the repressed agony
in your voice,
you are just a boy
oblivious to the strain on your shoulders,
just a boy
giving forlorn hope to your mother
to cling on to,
claiming to build a life
your father
otherwise
would have.
it's your facade
and your desperate attempt
at being a man,
to certify
the only legacy
your father left behind.
YOU ARE READING
the blue and the solace
Poesiea poetry, thoughts and an excerpts collection. - #8 in poetry - #2 in poem
