Ribbons or bows
Till a tiny tot
Tugged at his toes.
Promptly, but not intentionally
I snatched the place of his lady love-
And she was now bound to be on
Either side of my glove.
Everything he bought for her
Now came in a pair of two
But somehow the reverse
Was barely ever true.
It was never a matter of shame
To serve him by pulling out his socks
And he could be the one
To get me into frocks.
As when he would fling me up in the sky
Even a perfect couple remained curious
For when I would let out a cry.
Puberty struck me
Mild touches turned awkward
Not even with the exception of a bruised knee.
Instead he was ready with a cane
Somehow that was enough to loosen our link.
I met my love in my later years
But he couldn’t perceive my emotions
Instead he disapproved with a countless explanations
And subsequently cited what I felt as notions.
He appeared to be friendly
Yet failed at being a friend
Because when I needed support
He seemed preoccupied even on the weekend.
Gone were those days
Of not being tied down by restrictions
But now when he comes home late
My heart develops a series of intuitions.
His fragile arm sticks out
From his flannel shirt
Aimlessly flicking through channels
As I stretch my little skirt.
He passes the salad bowl
From across the table
And mashes up his food to cover
His worry of my being stable.
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| Some bonds are magical (Picture credits: Unknown; Source: We heart it) |
