A Life Wasted

A journey of a family as the father is dying

I see things that nobody should see,

In the night, as I rock my daughter to sleep;

 

I see a lonely woman, crying,

Watching the man she spent her life with, dying;

She sees a man she blames for all ills in her life,

She feels uncomprehending anger, wasn’t she was always right?

People streaming in, but she is not the centre of attention,

A compassionate mother, a grieving widow, is that all pretension?

She sees her eldest daughter, holding his hand, stoic;

Eyes full of unshed tears, calm, always pretending to be heroic.

Her youngest is with her, watching her every move,

Trying to predict her mood, wanting her to approve.

 

The daughter sees a wise man, a patient man, her father;

He played their games, he lost, he made them laugh, he was never The Other;

He read, he wrote, made them fall in love with words

He never held them back, he taught them to dream, to soar like a free bird.

 

The second daughter sits in a corner, furtively checking her watch.

If I slink away quietly, will I get caught?

This man I have no connection with, this woman I have to keep happy

Sure, I love him but I love me more. But with her I am always wary.

You never know when she will take offence, what will make her explode

Having to please her at any cost, I am always at crossroads.

The eldest always had it easy, the father supported the rebel.

I was my mother’s daughter, my real self retreated into a shell.

I was the diplomat, trying to maintain peace,

With no help from either of these.

 

I have a story which nobody wants to hear,

I am done listening, I will not stay here,I want to disappear.

 

I am soaring above my body, my time is near.

My wife’s face contorted with grief, telling everybody about her fears,

Her worthless husband, her ungrateful daughters - she is sorry for herself, in tears

All else pales in comparison,everything is always about her, she holds their hand, one has to adhere.

 

I was the village boy, I had struggled, I had fought first generation battles to reach this place

But I was ridiculed, I was never good enough for her, I did not find any solace.

I gave up who I was,her words caustic,like acid she corroded my being;

My ideals, my faith , my heroes, my principles- all washed away as I lay bleeding.

In the beginning I tried, I fought, my daughters watched horrified;

As I packed my bags and vowed never to return, was it all my pride?

I came back, haunted by their eyes.

She saw my love as weakness, what is there not to despise?

 

She said don’t eat what I cook, I bought food from outside;

I sat at the table with her, as she ate what was cooked with my money,

I had never felt this vulnerable, fragile, clumsy.

Small chunks of me were withering away, a part of me had died.

 

My eldest took up my fights, tried to protect me.

My daughter stood up for me, did she never want to flee?

 

I hid behind her, confused. Was I the father or she my mother,my ancestor, the warrior?

I watched from the sidelines, buried in my books, I wanted my daughter to win but I supported neither.

Their battles were long drawn, bloody, epic but she was just a child,

She always retreated licking her wounds, plotting revenge, victories glorious, never ready to be reconciled.

 

I know her mother hated her, she was not ready for this child growing in her womb,

This child had trapped her in a loveless marriage, the eldest daughter spelled her mother’s doom.

If you leave now, my father will die, the society will mock me, so don't  you dare to run away.

I looked at my innocent child in her arms, love welled up in me, I was held to ransom, I chose to stay.

My youngest looks exhausted, wanting to leave

I don’t blame her, me she could never deceive.

I wanted to help her, but now I could play no part.

From a distance, I watched her trying hard.

I know she carried the burden of compromise, I could see the unfolding of her misery.

Looking up to her sister, wanting to please her mother,always pretending to be cheery.

 

I see the truth I don’t want to tell,

Battle scarred, weary, what heights I fell!

I see relationships seething, withering, decaying,

I see lives wasted, flickering, dying.

Reviews

[Mexamerican1]

I enjoyed your thoughts and being a husband, I could relate to somethings that you wrote. Your transitions to have different people comment about their relationships was good. Are you dreaming while rocking your daughter to sleep? Perhaps, a better way can be used to start your dream. Over all it was a good read. Thank you.

[DrAnuradha Bele]

Thank you very much! I understand your point about dreaming, I have changed it. Thanks again!

[Solar]

A very poignant poem, seen through dying man's eyes, the lies lived and the sacrifices made.

[DrAnuradha Bele]

Thank you very much!

[hcarson]

wow!! and you say you have only just started writing?? your writing is amazing! i love it..everything just flows so naturallly. this story is so sad but so true for so many families. i cannot comment this poem highly enoough, excelllent job!! will be following you...(not in a creepy manner of course haha) full marks :)

[DrAnuradha Bele]

Thank you very much! I appreciate it. You give me the courage to write more.

[hcarson]

in all honesty this is one of the best things i have read on here and i have read some amazing things! you are going places with this writing, your a natural, look forward to reading more of your work :)

[DrAnuradha Bele]

Awww. Thank you so much!