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Array
(
[sid] => 125942
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => WHOSE FAULT IS IT?
[time] => 2006-09-19 09:21:16
[hometext] => (This poem highlights the event that happened when I visited a small village for a day on my way to Mumbai.)
[bodytext] => The lights never works in this cell, the sun has set There is darkness everywhere. Thinking back…whose fault was it? I was just sitting… was I also reading? While waiting for the world’s best dad. I heard from the far end of the village, Foot steps and the rustling of the metal travel bag. I could see the green saviour dress, those big black shoes And the shiny medals. He promised to always be like that…! I threw my books away and ran towards the front, I could see ‘The Man’ and feel the proud within myself. The one who I hadn’t seen for years. The one I want to be like… A conceited figure for me. I am thinking right now… Was that the only time I felt proud?… perhaps… The proudness was imaginary… Fake and vague like my hopeless fate. I am in the opposite where I wanted to be now. Because of him I lost my family!! I found my gift in his bag and letters of love Which my mother didn’t write. His way of living with us changed My mother had bruises ever since then!! He sold his daughter to old rich men!! HE CHANGED…. From the best to the WORST From a saviour to a KILLER From an angel to a DRUNK He changed about me; facts and life. I couldn’t see my mother beaten to death But I never wanted to kill him then. He ran away wounded Next morning found dead… Today I am trapped in this cell… Whose fault is it? The son who preached him as an idol Or the father who could not keep his promise? [comments] => 2 [counter] => 204 [topic] => 39 [informant] => shaba_11 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Grief )
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