I Remember,
I remember*
I remember someone calling my name…
I remember someone whispering in my ears…
I remember someone calling my name,
Calling my name, when I was so in deep tears…
And found out that he was our father…
I was willing to conceive his word, thou’ I nev’r knew how to read through his lines…
I remember someone calling my name….
Calling my name,
The only person who remember’d me even when all others were forgotten about me…
I thought I was alone,
Because I nev’r knew that there is a bride who’d still marry me even when I was living under the skin of nobody…
I remember someone calling my name…
Calling my only name out of nowhere…
A man who which came to me and prove to be a good friend indeed…
He came in a bad time and proves to me that there’re still moments that worth to be celebrated…
A man who came when I was in a verge of despair…
And teach me how to act in the story full of tears and pain…
He gave me a reason to say thank you for every little piece of breath I take…
I remember someone calling my name…
When I was in deep, deep’st pain…
He came and offered me something, something that is rare to find…
He offer’d me love, peace and happiness in the world that celebrates a hobby of hate…
He came and offer’d me a drink,
In the world packed by drunken masters…
He came to me when I was in deep pain…
And surely taught me how to babysit my pain…
For I knew not who’d sell his only home for me,
But anyway, he has surely proved to be the architecture of my soul…
For I knew not who’d love like him…
But surely he has proved to be a good friend…
who’ll always be there for me even when the world falls into sleep…
I remember someone calling my name…
For I knew not who’d be…
But he came one day,
And teach me how to sing a happy song in the choir that sing a song of hate…
He came to me when I was nobody…
And transformed me to a body that anybody wo’d dare for to build upon it…
Our father, the born warrior and the conqueror who nev’r used power…
A man of many gentle men…
Who’d love like him, make me understand…
So keep looking for his presence,
For there’re so many places where his love would dare to dwell upon…
So keep looking for god’s presence,
For he has so, many corners in this world that we could find his presence that we fail to dwell upon…
End of poem18
Copyright © Damane Pusetso Lionel | Year Posted 2014
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