(11/06/1970 / Sri Lanka)

To The Daughter

The time it was insisted
In torrential rain of thunder
To exile and to say good bye
You may have not known
The things were happening

For now is the same
You may not know
The things are happening
Being with you, almost two months
Beside of symbol of paternal
What we could share

You laughed and cried
I tried to feed you
Having held in hand
In the night I showed you
Uncle Moon and brothers of stars

I think you learnt
When I asked again
Pointed your finger

One two and three years passed
I could not see your growing
Sometime heard your voice
For a moment by the phone

I see you matching
With daughters of others
On the roads, in parks and everywhere
Schooling and playing with snow
Words of childish and acts of mischievous

I was looking at them with hidden madness
Perhaps I lament closing lachrymose eyes
You may not know and no one
Burden of feelings and curse of time passing

Missing of love with mega pain
I am nourished for tomorrow
You may feel the absence of mine
Please excuse me for being like this

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 5 votes ) 7

Comments (7)

Missing of love with mega pain I am nourished for tomorrow You may feel the absence of mine Please excuse me for being like this..full of emotion, and at the same time very serious and introspective poem.. heart touching and heart warming poem.. than ku dear poet. tony
Beautiful emotional heart touching write. Very much deserving full marks. Invite you to read my poem 'My daughter'. Best wishes.
A poet is likely to live all emotions when feeling all way around to make his, her works worth it, Nice writing and keep driving those emotions to the other end
Right then, first of all thank you for inviting me to read your work, as soon as I saw the title to this write I had to read, and it hit me like a tonne of bricks, I feel your pain and share your experiences as we speak. This is truly a beautiful piece of work and I emphasise with every last word. You could have been reading my very thoughts as you wrote this, I offer you my hand in friendship and understanding, and hope to share many pieces of work with you. And well..... about the write itself it flows wonderfully and I salute your talent! ! Exalt! ! ! Jon
Poetry is a spontaneous overflow of emotions collected in tranquility, said Wordsworth. Your recollections have a touch of tranquility and superb human sensitivity. A good poem Mr Udaya
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