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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=533444" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My father's bench!</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=533444" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Dad was sitting on the bench in the verandah, <br>Looking at the people who passed by the road, <br>He might have been searching for the children, <br>That he had reared and sent them to foreign, <br>As the wedded blissful young brides and grooms, <br>The silhouette of him getting bigger and smaller in routine, <br>Lonely he was, rubbing the hands of the hardened skin, <br>He was a man of few words, whom I forgot all of a sudden, <br>When my heart was newly occupied by few other hearts, <br>I wrote letters to him once in a while, apart from greetings, <br>when the scene has changed after a few decades, <br>I am Standing here alone and looking throw the windows, <br>People seem to be having only heads and shadows, <br>I may need the bench of my father to put near the sliding door, <br>Of the balcony of the apartment to watch the ants crawling, <br>Down the street, not even privileged to see their faces, <br>not blessed to have our village visitors to arrive at any minute.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Veeraiyah+Subbulakshmi">Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi</a></strong></div>

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