PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

O my dearest father!

O my upbringer!

Can you see,

like me,

how everything that has been mine,

From birth

to the strike of this chime,

is being disposed of,

with glee:

O my dearest father!

O you who matter,

the most to me,

can't you see,

I pray, do see,

the way I do:

How ironical it is,

to watch your tears,

mingled with the sea,

of the crowd -- Prithee,

Waste not your feelings for me!

O my greatest joy in life!

Or so it was,

at least for me.

Oh, how this show of vanity:

A bedecked seat bought with coins,

Displays the fondness you have for me --

While I am at a loss to express,

my pain as I depart from thee.

Dowers exchanged by the hands,

my very own,

Now become anon,

Anon, aye, for me...

My father, do wipe your eyes,

and see,

how my own doorsteps,

forbid my entrance to me...

An unknown world,

all strange,

I am told again and again,

Is the world that belongs to me...

Ah, how happily,

My own family,

Changes the chapter,

of my destiny...