LOVE Unpaid, by Aman Aslam

Mother
Two hundred and seventy-seven days, I carried you,
Days were not easy—pain then, pain now.
Now at home, then in a clinic afar,
I never grew angry, only eager
to have you wrapped in my arms.
And when I did have you, I nurtured you like my god.
“Son, now before you show me the way out—think again.”

Father
“Two decades and two years,
Were you ever starving?
New clothes, new shoes, new cycle, new bike.
You smiled, and I relished,
Carried you on my shoulders, gave you all you asked.
You, I thought of when toiling under the sun.
“Son, now before you show me the way out—think again.”

Both
Two decades and two years,
Were we ever tired of you?
Always loving, always forgiving, always supporting.
One day of your sickness, and we were in hell.
“Son, now before you show us the way out—think again.”

-Aman Aslam

Author: poetryfest

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