Why, Indeed

Beleaguered Servant20140514201405032 CommentsOriginal Poems

Why should I come home? he texts,

There is nothing for me there.

So there’s not: there’s only us,

Only moments we could share.

Only life and only living,

Only taking, resting, giving.

But I know it’s too much bother

So, don’t bother.

Love,

Your Father

Published by Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure. View all posts by Beleaguered Servant

2 Thoughts to “Why, Indeed”

dumbnick says:

20140516 at 13:10

This is…so, so great. Only life and only living…man, do I feel guilty for taking my folks for granted time after time. I’m gonna send them this poem – and every time I come up with some silly thoughtless excuse, they should send it to me to knock some sense into me. Thanks muchly for this.

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1. BeleagueredServant says:
  
  20140516 at 13:53
  
  Thanks for reading and commenting. I certainly feel that way about how I treated my parents.
  
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