Member Poem

Thick frame, thin glasses,
an old spectacles,
a keep sake,
a rarest inheritance
from my dearest dad.

Crises, tensions, frustrations…
Struggles, triumphs, delights…
Life had left its imprints
on my dad’s spectacles.

It betrayed him never;
guided him always.
It was a mate of his eyes;
nothing could part them
except an attack on heart.

Once he saw me,
now I see him -
all through the same spectacles,
black and white.