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Letters written in fetters - 4

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Below is the poem entitled Letters written in fetters - 4 which was written by poet David Smalling. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Letters written in fetters - 4

Dearest son,
                      This was the time I held your hand
                       And then let you go again and again from a standing position
                       Hoping you would understand and trust me still
                       Because sometimes I did not catch you fast enough
                       But helped you, so you knew to get up whenever you fell
                       Yeah, fathers miss things you will not remember
                       When you climb the beanstalk to steal the golden goose.
                       I apologise because I miss the unannounced end.

                       Truth is son,
                        Until plantation owners reinvented fatherhood again
                        And made us believe we were surrogates
                        Of countries we call mother England
                        And after my ancestors melted until they were black
                        Making money for a leisure class of maniacs
                        Fishing was something a boy discovered by himself
                        Like dolls house, and that sudden look in a girl's eyes
                        And you would have been greater than Columbus to yourself
                        Discovering how to make a top or shoot a marble
                        So that you only needed when the thunder rolled
                        A giant was close to climbing down that beanstalk in your dreams
                        It was then I had to leave
                        For golden goose don't drop from giant skies
                        And the source of true economy
                        Is not the competence at strategy
                        But the dwindling reservoir of environment
                        After we were fenced out of the common property.

                        Our hearts were shackled together
                        We wore fetters, chains and prisons like skin
                        And I was not permitted to be sold
                        Transported, deported, excommunicated without you
                        For you are not supposed to see the father until you see the sun
                        Father and son are one only for the sinister of the conspiracy
                        But they feared you more than they feared me
                        If the minotaur did not kill you, then you were to hate me

Copyright © David Smalling

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  1. Date: 10/1/2012 10:13:00 AM
    powerful work David!!

  1. Date: 9/29/2012 2:43:00 PM
    'our hearts were fettered together" chains that bind and chains that rend. speechless.