To be One Like A Dearest Son


Unlived Ages between us,
Unturned pages between us;
Still there’s a bridge of love,
To fill this gap;
Like a feather in my cap,
To have parents like you

Holding my fingers,
You taught me to walk;
Bringing me up,
You got me to talk;
Sorted out every differences for me,
Ooh! We strolled across distances and miles;
Eating morsels of life,
From your fist of love.

Now after thirty odd years,
When I am quite old and mature;
And you’ve become one,
One like me and mine.
I will be your walking stick,
Will become your molar chewing teeth;
Would be your quotient memory,
Will be your residual eye sight;
I will be your ears to listen,
To be one like dearest Son;
Will drive away all your fears,
To strengthen this bond of blood,
With a toast of thanks;
And a pinch of sorry with regards.

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