Soliloquy

We never saw eye to eye, just eye for eye
Not letting up till it made either of us cry
You lose an inch, I secure a mere yard
Not unlike gladiators when we sparred

Because we fought an endless war
Oft forgetting what we were fighting for
Now we can’t stop, but can we withdraw?
Clutching at the last, unfinished straw?

I hate myself now for the things that I have done
I’m sorry, ma, for turning out to be a bad son
Long past the age now to say it was mere fun
I forget that you’re a part of the race that I run

But honestly it wasn’t all roses and sunshine
All those times that I lied about being fine
You knew how much I hated it at grandma’s
But you took it as a chance to have me harassed

And, dad, you may have forgotten those cold nights
But I remember every time I screamed I was right
It was too much for you and it must have hurt
To see your only son become a scumbag in the dirt

I apologise, dad, for the things that I have done
Sorry for, “Look, that’s Mr Bhowmick’s bad son!”
It were your ideals from which I tried to run
Why fight again when I’d already won?

And although now it doesn’t seem this way
I love the two of you more than I can ever say
The time is not right but there never will be one
Jury’s out on whether I’ve been a worthy son.