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The Neglected Ones

In this poem, Vickey talks about old parents left behind and neglected by their children – exclusively for Different Truths.

Yes, I have seen the wrinkles.
Crying alone in the drawing rooms,
Sunk utterly in dejection.
Uncared parents with sullen faces!

Yet, blessing the rotten
Fruits of their womb.
The dearest ones are the rarest ones!
The tragic tale of today!

Those tears from wrinkles
Drop in and out of the heart's cracks.
But unable to irrigate their arid hearts.
Pity! What an emotional draught!

Witnessed I have the neglected houses
With miserably neglected grey hairs
Ah! Those ageing souls, shivering bones.
Who cares for those remorseful remnants

Whimpering eyes, tired of waiting
For the born who hardly ever mourn.
Perennial loneliness becomes eternal anguish,
That eats up and up slowly the marrow of life.
 
Degrees and achievements may shine
In the eyes of those migrated children,
Who abandons their old parents,
Whose grieved hearts scream with wide smiles.

Picture design by Anumita Roy

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Vickey David
Vickey David is an Indian English poet, editor and lecturer. Born in West Bengal, India, he authored three books and edited four poetry anthologies. He has been a participant in many national poetry and short story contests. He has also published his poems in online and offline magazines. He is best known for his minimalistic expression, through which he successfully captures the essence of everyday life.

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