|
| |
HOW CAN I EVER REPAY YOU
Do you recall that old clock?
Rested well above your bed
With the broken pair of hands
The one that struck at my dawn.
It ceased dancing and stopped its chime
Just as you gave up the ghost
As if mourning, those tiring hands stood still
As if your departure is against their will.
How can I repay you
For every cramp, every seizure
For nights of worry, eyes that wept
Dismissed as "too old," yet never slept.
How can I repay the pain you bore
For meals skipped to offer more
For battling illness, tending sores
For nights stretched long and neverending chores
Could any gesture, gift or word,
Match the love your heart has stirred?
The alms to beggars, prayers whispered
Tears that fall at every mention of your name
But in each moment I try
To honor you as days pass by
For all you've given, all you've done
In gratitude, our hearts are one.
Copyright ©
Hakim Fuhad Mansaray
|
|