Tag Archives: #Ananya #Robert #Google #Discovery

MY SON i

My Son,

When I get old,

When every rhapsody

In me become fold,

Don’t be of my shivering body

Who hold his rod in the cold…

When I get old,

When every flesh of mine

Be of fruitful mold°

Be of your father’s vine

With his heart of gold…

There will be time when

You will need to be yourself

That same time, my old age

May need you to be my self,

Be what you want of adage.

Not of this world 

That tends to worship God

But found worshipping self…

Ask of the same God

When self is not satisfied. 

Hmnn……My son…(to be continue…)

c. Natur’s Pictur N’quill