ah, father really never danced. <br /> <br />if i learned to dance it was from <br />someone else, <br /> <br />and father never liked it for a <br />dance is just a hindrance to the <br />work in the rice fields, <br /> <br />if father danced, it was because <br />he was drunk <br />pretty tired from hard work <br />dark brown skin caused by the <br />Asian sun <br /> <br />and we simply watched that kind <br />of bad taste <br />perhaps even detesting why <br />we are here <br />all chained by work and <br />struggle <br /> <br />perhaps i wished i had a dancing father <br />like yours <br /> <br />but you have never learned to dance too <br />despite the dancing father that you had <br /> <br />and so i cheer myself today <br /> and say: Life is fair. <br /> <br />now i have grown up, and try to recall <br />if father loved me even for once <br />even if he did not dance with <br />us <br /> <br />the land and the money <br />the house and the rice & corn fields <br />the coconut farm and <br />the fishing boats and the beach <br /> <br />they dance before us <br />and it is enough proof that my father <br />who never knew how to dance <br /> <br />did love us too.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/there-was-no-dance-with-my-father/
