When we were small,
The only word with us was,
“Parents”,
From fear to ecstasy,
They were with us,
In the victory, we hid under their smiley face,
When thundering, we hid under their strong breath,
*************************************
In the middle age,
They were seriously patient,
For forgiving us,
For the rudeness,
Which we thought of as the heroic performances,
But, at the end of the day, they were the real knowers,
****************************************
In the post era,
Now, they are unable to,
After consecrating their whole soul,
For the only fact,
What is called, “The Prosperity of Us”,
Let’s not neglect our parents,
Because we are the tree,
For the rest of their journey as creepers,
At this stage,
We cannot alleviate them only with money,
But they value the mental freedom,
More than money,
So, engage in a walk with them,
By getting their dithering hands,
And be patient with them,
As they taught us when we were small.
About the Creator
Esala Gunathilake
I am an enthusiastic writer who feel the sense of humanity. Thus, I can write stanzas, short stories, novels, articles and blogs as well. I am a blog contributor for the Ananda College Engineer's Ink student chapter website.
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Comments (4)
Ugh, I feel so guilty; I don't like my parents with good reason. I do love them still and don't know how. Not everyone is all accepting of who we are even if our love is true. Beautifully written Esala!
This is really an evocative piece. I would say it is a tribute to the unappreciated efforts of our parents. Love it.
Esala this is the greatest ever gratitude we can convey, yes indeed it is our duty to protect them and listen to them. May your verse will heal all the lovely parents who are weeping at elder's homes and may their children change their minds to visit them at least!!
This tugged at my heartstrings. Loved your poem!