Papa

Rest your wrinkled hands
close your tired eyes.
They must have seen so much.
I cannot begin to imagine
all that your generous heart has felt.
I am but your creation,
I carry your ‘body pain’
and seemingly
I carry your burden,
I carry our ancestors’ burden.
But I won’t pass this on to my girl.
I will shed this burden,
burry, burn or make it disappear.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s