A man withers,
Before my very eyes,
But he does not fall.
His eyes remain stagnant,
Yet focused,
He now caters to yesterday's living memory,
He carries the load,
Of his beloved predecessors,
As they did before him.
He shows me stories,
A memoire indebted to life.
How much love can exist,
In a human being?
How far one can go,
To love a family member?
How much can one tolerate,
To salvage family ties,
Ultimately avoiding internal war?
Regardless,
He pushes onward,
Knowing full well,
Our eyes are set on him.
His knees buckle,
But he does not give in.
His eyes water,
But he never falters.
His energy dwindles,
But he stands regardless.
Not a perfect man by any stretch.
Who is?
But a man worth following,
Without a doubt.
I am indeed proud.
Proud to be your son.
Proud to learn from you.
About my strengths,
And my shortcomings.
The delicate balance of it all.
I thank you,
I thank you for not faltering.
For teaching us the way to go.
I promise to keep my eyes set on you,
As your light progresses,
So that at the end of the tunnel,
I may pick up the baton,
And do the same.
YOU ARE READING
Abroad
PoetryThe purpose of this poetry book is one of defiance. Not to others, or anything in particular. It is against the war we wage internally, against ourselves every day. There is no bigger challenge in life than facing your thoughts, your true emotions...
