Yours Useless Father

Amidst a quietude hedge
under the shadow of a teak
I, a man of middle age
standing beside a broken pushbike.
Far Away from other's gaze
sipping tears from my cheek
to satisfy thirst instead of taking beverage
which my hands did pick.
I was enrage
opened the shoes' streak
With it started hitting my face
and Began to shriek.
Spat at my parentage
and my inability to give
luxury and advantage
What my children did seek.
While Wiping my teary eyes ,
On phone something I began to seek
Finally, my fingers stopped on an image
quite heart wrenching; as it was a stiff.
I cried With full of remorse and rage
"My dearest son! My old age's stick!"
Why you parted your ways
from us In a blink?"
My shoulder which was once your stage
not only endured all your fun and frolics
but also took your death carriage
along with an urn filled with your relics."
After uttering these pathetic phrase
Before a lifeless pic
Wiped tear drops, accumulated courage
Moved ahead riding my pushbike.