The old man sat down on the garden chair
The morning daily wide-open in front
On a bright sunny morning of February 19
With birds chirping all around and
Blooming flowers covering the ground

His eyes on the paper but mind far away
Remembering his son's birth on the same day
Life started all new with tiny footsteps
Surpassing each stepping stone
And years racing past at a full pace

Son grew up,shifted abroad
Started a family, forgot his parents
Soon his loving parents
Who once used to be his superheroes
Became the thorn in his throat

Pleaded them to give his monetary share
Shifted them away from their ancestral house
And now the old man is sitting
In the garden of the Old Age Home

With nothing but unspoken memories and thoughts
Caught up in his heart
Unspoken and unforgotten.


© Silverstone