Ashly Raju Poet I do not know?

Without the Thought of Past and Future

The love and concern 
Of parents are waste
For the thankless adults.
But the time when 
Loneliness was fearful, 
When darkness led to cry 
The providence of parents 
Was valuable.
At present, the love of mother, 
Who bore, is disgrace.
The concern of father, 
Who have always held 
Near to his heart, is shameful.
The stories they told, 
The games that  they played with, 
The immemorial kisses that they gave
And everything that they spent
Have vanished.
Without thinking of 
The childhood and senility of selves
The old parents are pushed
To the edge of the house.
So be prepared
For the dark rooms
In the senility.

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