Words Too Late
"In the fading light of evening
the sadness will dissolve..."
--- from "How", by S. J. Marks.
Ashamed, I have vilified my mother
and (even more) my father.
I greatly loved her (but not him).
Should a son speak well of parents?
After many years, pay tribute to
who gave them their existence?
But what should be the duty of
creators toward their creations?
Are, late in life, from one past 80,
these long- delayed condemnations
of neglect all justified, the angry
abuse, physical and mental?
Punishment without reason?
Even actual abandonment?
I had a drunkard always absent wino father --
and a resentful mother -- neglectful, mean --
deserving (she believed) much
much more than she was given.
So late in life to write these words.
Here they are.
How useless?
How necessary.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
