Old Man And Story - Poem

 As a writer life seems

To me tell a tale

Even though it is my story

Or you're true or fake

Emotionally entangled or not

It remains a story like more

Then that happened in the past

But we caress it like dearest

Which deserves prize

And made my identity as the author

And world recognition

Therefore I never forgot that story

When I really need to forget

That story cause I lost my son

He lost a father

Because of their true love

And I told the world lies

That son has deserted us but I never confess I am jealous of

Their true marital love.

God bless them and let them live

Happily.

Not looking back or looking after 

This old man

Whose heart remained only to write

The story read a story that not yet learn to

Leave and love others.

It becomes his tasty food to hear

And search sad stories

He never dances ever in joy

Laugh spontaneously where there

Were changes and never told little grandson story.

Still, he seems unhappy

With his partner to reach heaven

And grasp meanings like blind

Fumbles.

He. Might be searching heaven in

Others stories.

And hope unleash the secret of life which

Nobody dares but pretend always

By apparel and mascara and smiles

Even far away from that.

Would you also simulate that?

Feign like that?