A father’s legacy
Premnath J. Moraes
These words I penned ten years ago
In the throes of pain and grief
To me remain alive, aglow
As the span still seems so brief.
I wish I had your shoulders,
Your warm engaging smile;
I wish you’d grown much older
And stayed a longer while.
I wish I had your talent
That so abundantly had flowed;
For reasons not quite apparent
Fate didn’t snuff the candle that glowed.
I wish I had your gentle ways,
Your principles so high,
And wish my wastrel nights and days
Hadn’t brought on (inaudible) sighs.
I wish I had that golden voice,
That repartee and wit;
But even more, had I the choice,
I’d want by you to sit.
I wish I had your courage
In the face of crushing odds,
And hope that I can manage
To bear this cruellest of rods.
But more than anything else
That I could ever wish to come true,
I wish I’d never heard the tolling bells for
Thaaththa – and that we’d never lost you.