My mother tells me, that when I was young
I used to wear everyone’s shoes lying around
and run all over the house, but whenever
I saw my father’s; I would pick them up and bring them to her
but that is just the story of every toddler I know

Lately, I engage with people of different aspects
some would delight my day with the symphony
of kindness, tranquility, the sound of the silent sea at night
but some would shade my soul with my father’s weaknesses
like having his last name and resemblance
is to admit on to carrying his burning cross of sins

And I sometimes wish, that my mother could clarify
how I’ve been always too frail to fit in my father’s shoes