It riles me to be told <br />I must be one of the fold <br />who leave their homes <br />ever on the roam <br />seeking new Romes. <br /> <br />How shallow they are <br />measured by palaces <br />in far away places <br />to foist on another <br />a land without a mother. <br /> <br />What about my father <br />with all he could gather <br />all the world in a basket <br />living love in air-filled caskets <br />feeding his children wisdom in banquets <br /> <br />I'm not done yet with my sins <br />seeking to get to the bottom of thins <br />dig up the mess from years of neglect <br />that I may see and soundly reflect <br />on the change I want to be <br /> <br />Coined in new image of self <br />that my father may fill the earth <br />with blissful mirth <br />and tell all he sees <br />that's my son on martyred seas.<br /><br />mark nwagwu<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/change-105/
