The Worthless Parents

By Divya Devarajan

Sitting in the corner room of the house

Are a pair of souls, and their lifeless eyes.

They used to be the backbone of that house

and through them it became a home from a house.

Their tears and sweat painted the walls of the house

Their pain and endurance, were its foundation.

Yet now they're nothing but guests in their house,

which once used to called them master and lady.

They nurtured their little one with all their love

Giving every comfort, every speck of happiness.

They kept their wings folded and closed

and gave the feathers to their child to fly.

Little by little the wings were exhausted

and the little birdie grew up as big as them.

Slowly the wingless parents became more of a burden,

who were nothing less or nothing more, just a moral obligation.

They became a mark of intolerance and impatience

In the fast paced world, they were snails to waste time for.

Their eyes held the pain of neglection, of fallen hopes

They craved for nothing but love and respect.

Holding on to each other, such unlucky souls despair

About how they wasted their life, all for their children.

Their dreams were colourless, and only death could free them off

A relief from this suffocation, from this world full of disgrace.

Maybe their hope is only to live once more,

where the virtue of love is still alive in the world.

By Divya Devarajan