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by Mahesh Kachare Nov 26, 2016
Sadness, depression /
Every time, ignoring the loveliest heart of father
Poets and Saints have only praised the mother
He becomes a supporter to his son and daughter
But, in old age, no one give him a glass of water
Like a bull, he takes away all tensions on his arms
So, how and when can he do the irrational scams?
As a father, to sorrow, he doesn't give attentions
When he is suffered by sorrow, he never mentions.
by Anamika Patil
What a realistic poem.I love my father though he is no more.
Wow. This is very true. It's an eye opener. Great write!
A very thoughtful and well penned poem.
by Mahesh Kachare
Thank you for your reply my friend.
Father is the roof of our home. My father died but I use to cry every night but think till that he is around me. I love my father very very much.