Grandma Chosen A Knife
Herojit Philem *
In old wrinkled leather
Hip bends perpendicular
With third leg, no slipper.
Hair almost all lose
No work is her choice;
Son- as had half life
She choose a knife.
In child's return stage
No work is to be chosen
Nor sadness in dozen
She took up a hoe
Given grandkids no woe.
Her son frozen though
In vanished foam
For kids he dreamth
A great genes to be;
Daughter-in-law insane in struggle
Now grandma is left single.
Sings grandpa the never ending songs
On dying bed, what nobody longs
So, in old wrinkled leather
Hip bending perpendicular
With third leg, no slipper
Grandma chosen a knife
To make son's genes great.
* * Poem written by Herojit Philem who can be contacted at herojit(dot)philem(at)hotmail(dot)com
This poem was webcasted on February 17, 2013.
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