"Forgive me, Son, for plastering purple pelts on your Ma's back
When the only purple should have been the lilacs I put in her hair.
Forgive me, Son, for spending away my days, on sniffing sugar and crack
When I should have been indulging you with candy apples at the fair.
Forgive me, Son, for not reading you into a dream-filled bed;
Instead, I became the wicked villain of your most horrifying nightmare.
Forgive me, Son, for making metaphors of smashed TV sets
And not realizing It was your self-worth I shattered with my anger flare.
But most of all, Son, forgive me, for it took me,
S o l o n g to care."
"Son, it took prison bars
To make me look inside and stare And it is not an experience even I
Would want you to wear.
So, for my salvation
As well as yours,
I hope, Son,
Somehow, my mistakes will help you learn,
To grow up to a better man
To not meet the same fate,"
Read the disenchanted man
By the dim light in his dark cell,
Then tightly balled up the yellowed letter
That arrived a few years too late.
~*~
Hello people,
I hope you all are well. I wrote this as part of the PPC prompt "Lost Letters". This, I feel, is one of my better and more emotional works, so I really hope it made you feel. If it did, please vote on the star below and surely comment what you think.
Have a nice day :)
Anna
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Random Spurts Of Poetry (#Wattys2016)
詩歌When you can't paint with colours, Paint with words; When you can paint with words, Do you really need the colours? Achievements: #11 in Poetry (23/9/26) #13 in Poetry (22/9/16) #14 in Poetry (28/7/16)
