Do any of you know
A man and a woman
Came to my place one evening
I was playing with my dad
In the lawn in front of my home
These people got down
From the car
And my dad helped them
Unload a number of luggages
They approached me and
I was able to recollect
I have seen them somewhere
But quite long back
Not an issue
They were all kind to me
And they missed not an opportunity
To hug me and hold me on their shoulders
They did a lot to my mom
Especially while she was feeding me
As I was fussy about eating
They were with us for long
I started enjoying their company
And there were a number of evenings
When my mom and dad
Would silently disappear
Leaving me under the care of these visitors
I developed intimacy with them
They, for that matter, enjoyed
Taking care of me
I used to even feel that
These guys are better than my parents
These elderly people
Never scolded me nor threatened me
It looked to me they love me
The same way my parents do
Gone a number of days like that
I am in comfort
With all the love, care and attention
Of my mom, dad and these people
Despite repeated training
And insistence from my parents
I was not able to call these people
Grandma and Granpa
These people accompanied
me and my parents
Wherever we went in my dad's car
One fine day
There was a lot of discussions
Between all the elders at home
And there were preparations
As if some people are going somewhere
We all boarded the car
With huge luggages
And my dad was driving
We reached a place
These luggages were unloaded
I was put in a stroller
And the elderly woman
Left the scene pushing me in my stroller
And the other visitor
Came along
A number of things happened
I just then noticed
None of my parents
Went with us
It is now a week's time
I have not seen my dad or mom
But I hear them talking to me
Over the phone or the computer
It is sure I am not going to see them
For quite some days to come
Why worrying or crying
Over the absence of my parents
I am now settling with these visitors
Who took me away from my parents
But for what purpose
I do not know yet
Why me to be separated
From my mom and dad
Do any of you know
helping my mom
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Who Must Take Care of Old-aged Parents?
Which child will care for parents when old-aged?
Which child will show compassion and respect?
Which child will find the time to talk kind words?
Which child reciprocates their affection?
Gone are the days of joint family system!
Gone is the sense of values in people!
Gone are the times when blood was quite thicker!
Gone with the wind is honouring parents!
Have parents not showered love on children?
Have they not slogged to give them life's comforts?
Have they not nursed them whenev'r they fell ill?
Have they not done their duties to their kids?
The world today is selfish to the core;
Children just want the wealth of parents old;
None volunteer to tend to old parents;
Children show scarce love to their parents dear!
What has then come upon children today?
Who should take care of parents, elderly?
Should not one's children take care of parents?
Much love seems lost in families these days!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What More? Not Money!
What more can I ask for
What do I need?
What do I want?
All I need is love to live on
All I need is trust to live on
All I need is sense to live on
All I need is someone else's love to live on
Money isn't just everything
It can buy things
But there are some things money can't buy
Money can't buy my parents
No matter how much people offer me billions of dollars for my parents
I will never hand my parents to them
My parents are worth every single thing to me
I need love to go on
The loneliness is something that has a grudge on me
But with love
The grudge is gone
All I need to live on is God
When nobody listens to me
God does
He's always ready to listen
He's always ready to repsond
God is like my father
Who I love and care
Because he cares for my parents
I don't care if he doesn't care for me
Cuz' my parents are my top priority
I'll do anything to not lose them
I don't care about money
Because money comes and go
But love, God, and my parents are with me
No matter where
They're inside me
My fuel energy to live on.
poem by XXXHolix Fire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Parents Vs Children
Things that i don't understand in this world is that why do some people
get into relationship, getting married, enjoying life and making love.
But when it comes to children or when they already have kids, they
could not accept their responsibilities as parents. They do have
regrets of having kids especially if the kids are naughty, giving problem
or giving them headaches. They always beating, shouting, saying bad words to the kids saying wish you never exist, wish you never been born.
Instead of being calm, giving advice, doing good things which would make their children happy and be proud to have good parents.
Instead of thinking good ideas which would make them close to each other
.
Child is a child, they need more time with their parents. They need
attention, care, and love. Children are curious to everything, they need
to know antyhing as part of growing up. They need the guidance of
parents, but what I see nowadays is different. Parents just give material things to show their love for their kids.
Some parents just go out to parties, shopping, prefer to hang out with their friends rather than their kids. Then they just leave the children
to the nannies/babysitter.
Parents make their children be far from them instead children to get
close to the nannies who always there for them and give the love to the children. Parents must be a role model for the children, but what i see
now is that children do as what their parents do, they become more liberated.
There are also some parents who give up for their children. Some choose their own happiness, they don't like to stay at home with their kids. especially if thier husband dont have time for them too. the tendency, both couple would have a problem that result to divorce.
Where is the love that they shared? where is the promises and vows they had?
poem by Judith Kempis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Elderly These Days!
The younger birds have flown off far away!
Their parents aged are left alone today;
The nest looks empty, silent, everyday;
O Lord, show us your way- they pray!
Who cares who cares for elderly these days?
All children seem busy in their own ways;
Mere solitude is what the world repays;
Oh, what a blot on modern human race!
What love was shown by parents in years past!
They look now weary, dazed, with eyes downcast;
They live in penury and sickness fast;
’Tis years, their near and dear ones saw them last!
Cannot all children understand their plight?
Neglecting elderly is never right;
God sees their bloody tears when children fight;
The elderly need food, comfort, care, sight!
Our parents kept us warm when we were cold;
All children have a duty to ones old;
The elderly need young shoulders to hold;
Their virtuous deeds are worth more than all gold!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-10-2006
Dedicated most lovingly to the World’s Elderly
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Parents When Old, Want From Their Children …
When you were small, a helpless kid,
Just imagine what parents did,
From feeding to keeping you clean –
A routine that had always been!
And now when parents are quite aged,
They feel like birds both that are caged;
Just give them half the love they gave;
Don’t lose your temper / misbehave!
When you were small and could not bathe,
Mom bathed you with towel to swathe,
And wiped you dry and combed your hair,
All your mischief, she had to bear!
When parents are now pretty old,
Or have a fever, catch a cold,
Should not the children care for them,
And treat them for each new problem?
When you were just a little child,
And parents scolded you so mild,
To show you what was wrong and right,
And chalk a future that was bright!
And now when parents have gone weak,
To walk, your assistance, they seek,
Oblige them with a heart all glad:
Old age is less happy, much sad!
When you were craving for good food,
Your mother cooked it as she should,
And heaved a sigh of great relief,
When you’d slept, in disbelief!
And now, when parents ask something,
Be kind and courteously do bring,
They cannot buy whatev’r they feel;
They cannot run or walk or kneel!
When you’d joined school for the first time,
And could not say even a rhyme,
Your mom had taught you how to write,
And sang a ‘lullaby’ at night!
And now when parents cannot read,
And reached a stage, they cannot feed,
Shouldn’t children help them with these chores,
And see that they don’t get bed-sores?
When you were children very small,
And appeared each, a tiny doll,
Your parents helped to dress you up,
And without spilling, drink from cup!
When parents elderly now need,
A blanket when it’s cold indeed,
Should children not offer the same,
Avoiding saying words of shame?
As children, you knew not to talk,
And parents taught you how to walk,
And told you stories, sang you songs,
Correcting you in all your wrongs!
Now old-aged parents, need your love,
And not the warmth of any stove!
They want their children to converse,
And not a filled wallet or purse!
You turned a man, woman o’er years,
While parents wiped away your tears,
And found a partner good for life,
Ensuring days, devoid of strife.
When parents are now bed-ridden,
And tell you truths that were hidden,
Shouldn’t you mitigate suffering,
Without causing some bickering?
Yes, children, you cannot return
The love what parents’ hearts did burn;
Thank God for giving such great souls,
Who led you to heavenly goals.
The least that aged parents ask,
Is see their children do God’s task,
And live in harmony with all
Relatives, neighbors, till Lord’s call!
So, do your duty to parents
In ripe old age in ways you can,
And get their blessings on kindred,
That stays generations hundred!
Attend on parents in good cheer;
Be kind to them and always near;
Not all offspring get this chance rare,
To have parents old-aged, to care!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-12-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A daughter loves her parents more than a son
A daughter loves her parents more than a son
But parents love their son more than their daughter,
After his marriage a son becomes a wicked person,
Then a son loves his wife more then his parents,
Over heard by his wife he pushes his parents out of home,
None gives them shelter in their old age except GOD,
Daughter will pity on them and she will welcome,
As they sow so shall they reap the crops,
Every one should be careful for action- re-action of life,
Today we disobey our parents tomorrow our sons re-act so,
Hence we face the same journey of our life's strife,
If we take care of our parents the same God will do,
We surely get what we do in the kingdom of God,
Carefully with guilt and virtue God has made a bod.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
The children who neglect their parents will be cursed,
The Nature makes such children’s house a hellish dome,
They are lucky children who are blessed by their parents,
It is said that there is a heaven under the legs of mother,
The children love or not to their mother but she loves all,
She embraces good or bad children but she can’t smother,
Mother is habituated to pray to God for all their happiness,
A few children won’t love their parents but love their wives,
In old age parents are in need of only their children’s love,
Who devote God, adore parents will be happy in their lives,
Love of parents always comes to children from the sky above,
God bless those children who are blessed by their parents,
And God curse those children who are cursed by their parents.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My parents were involved in everything I did. They were showbiz people themselves. My dad was an actor. They were parents; they did what parents are supposed to do.
quote by Tina Yothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life’s Unfair
Life’s Unfair
A husband and wife grow old together
You think and hope it will last forever
When you hear of children getting hurt
You hope it’s only a little fall in the dirt
So many accidents happen because of a drunk driver
Why is the drunk the only survivor
Parents hurt the children they love
Men hurt the women they should love
Some rich and famous do wrong and get a pass
Up and up goes the price for gas
The elderly get mugged and beat
Some people are hurt and left lying in the street
Women and children are molested
Children that are not protected
Men that are considered a deadbeat
People that are forced to live on the street
Children that are terribly ill
Parents can’t pay the bill
So much more of life is unfair
Lots of people that don’t care
poem by Michael Gelb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just another screw up
You get home
turn on the tv
Dont even bother to do homework
Its doesnt matter to you
You start to realize that
No one will believe you
When you are telling the truth
And when you lie
Its no surprise
Parents dont care
Dont even bother to hear you
Out,
Could care less about what you do
And what you dont
Your grades start to slip
You mind is getting busy
You cant stop thinking
About what kind of love
Your not getting
You cant seem to live up
To older siblings
Parents expect the best for you
All they do is take
They dont even care if
You're closer to break
Just some screw up
You yell to yourself
No one will understand
And you're just being yourself
You dont seem to care
Got that kiss my ass attitude
Dont give a rats ass about anyone
Except yourself
Just some screw up
Parents dont care
The world is out to get you
Cant seem to understand
Why no on can help you through
Just some screw up
Its nothing you
Teenagers are trouble
Just like me and you
poem by Danielle Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Parents (like, who needs them?)
In the staff room after Parents’ Day
we used to shake our prematurely
gray heads and contemplate
the Zen-ness of our well-worn truism:
‘Parents are the least suitable
people to have children’…
EMForster said, we begin by
loving our parents; later
we judge them; rarely
if ever, do we forgive them..
The other day, some pseudo-quiz
for exposure-hungry celebs
asked, what is the most disliked
thing about parents?
and the pollsters did their thing
and found it was, their taste in music..
I guess that tells you something
about the depth of culture
though I suspect many teenagers
really think, it’s the gross, unspeakable way
that they go on having sex after we’re born…
however, this alleged poem is getting
way off track from its solemn message
which might, just might, be India’s
greatest if unproveable gift to the West
and all who whinge about their parents and
what they did and didn’t do for us…:
karma: that the way you lived your previous life
fixed it via the absolute computer that
you were born in the most propitious
time and place and parentage
to continue the journey of your soul
on its way to the bliss of freedom
from all worldly attachments
such as, e.g. parents; older siblings; and
the rest you’ll have to fill in for yourself
remembering of course in your compassion that
it was karma for your long-suffering parents too;
you were their justice; and they, yours..
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I think the number one thing that I find important is the importance of honesty with your friends and your parents, if you can be. But I think that telling people how you really feel, being who you truly are, being safe and taking care of yourself is the most important thing.
quote by Emma Stone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Street Child
Who will care for me when i am born into this world?
For day and night i've been walking on the streets;
And i have to struggle to survive for i am a street child.
No, not even one!
For many parents do not even know their children;
And i was born into a lovely home but now,
I do live on the street as a street child.
Lust and sex,
We were born out of it;
But how many parents still know that we do exist?
How many?
They really do not care abour us,
And i have to struggle to survive on my own;
How many days more left for me?
And i have to make ends meet from the streets;
Because there is nobody around to help me,
And i have no place called home again.
A street child that i am,
And of the many rivers to cross for my survival;
How many social workers do know of our plights?
How many?
How many streets do we have to sleep on?
How many? Hopw many governmenets do we have to wait for?
How many?
Yet still i am a street child.
Who really care about us?
And who really care about me?
My parents do not even know my where about;
Right from Kwazulu Natal Province to Tingitingi,
And from Obbia to Nima!
How many do care?
I am born into this world but,
I am living on the street;
And who will care about me?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Hate is Such a Strong Word
I hate my life.
I hate that we have to eat whatever my parents want
Everyday
Even though I usually don't like it
They don't care
I hate that I don't live up to the standards set by my brother
And parents
I hate that I'm the stupidest one in my family
And they tell me
I hate that I'm not pretty.
I hate that I am fat.
I hate that people try to tell me that I am pretty
And that I'm thin
I'm not
They won't get over it
I hate that I can't get over little things.
I hate that boys never like me.
None have
I think they're really sweet sometimes
But they all just like my friends.
I hate that all of my friends are pretty,
And nice,
And smart.
And it makes me feel really subpar.
Even though they have no idea how much it hurts.
I hate that my friends get all the attention.
I hate that I'm insecure.
I hate that I have had an eating disorder.
I hate that I'm depressed.
I hate that I am too embarrassed
So I don't go see a nutritionist
Doctor said so.
I hate that I can't cry.
I hate that I blow things out of proportion.
I hate that I am such a drama queen.
I hate that everyone is better at things than I am-
Singing.
School.
I hate that I still have glasses.
I hate that I am so uncomfortable in my own skin
And am scared to let people see the real me.
I hate that I hate so many things.
I hate that people think no one cares-
When for me they really don't.
I hate that I have absolutely zero confidence in myself.
I hate that I've thought about committing suicide.
And that I'm such a teenage cliché.
I hate that my grandfather is dead
It's not his fault he died so near a national holiday
And no one seems to notice how much it is affecting me.
I hate that my family is always stressed out.
I hate that if my parents read this
They probably would pretend to care
Then would go and complain about how horrible I am
And how I take everything for granted.
I hate that everyone else in my family can seem happy.
I hate that I am a selfish spoiled bitch
Because I don't try to be
I hate that I don't know what to do anymore.
I hate that I'm so confused.
I hate that I hate my life.
poem by Jennie Scheihing
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Upon The Disobedient Child
Children become, while little, our delights!
When they grow bigger, they begin to fright's.
Their sinful nature prompts them to rebel,
And to delight in paths that lead to hell.
Their parents' love and care they overlook,
As if relation had them quite forsook.
They take the counsels of the wanton's, rather
Than the most grave instructions of a father.
They reckon parents ought to do for them,
Though they the fifth commandment do contemn;
They snap and snarl if parents them control,
Though but in things most hurtful to the soul.
They reckon they are masters, and that we
Who parents are, should to them subject be!
If parents fain would have a hand in choosing,
The children have a heart will in refusing.
They'll by wrong doings, under parents gather,
And say it is no sin to rob a father.
They'll jostle parents out of place and power,
They'll make themselves the head, and them devour.
How many children, by becoming head,
Have brought their parents to a piece of bread!
Thus they who, at the first, were parents joy,
Turn that to bitterness, themselves destroy.
But, wretched child, how canst thou thus requite
Thy aged parents, for that great delight
They took in thee, when thou, as helpless, lay
In their indulgent bosoms day by day?
Thy mother, long before she brought thee forth,
Took care thou shouldst want neither food nor cloth.
Thy father glad was at his very heart,
Had he to thee a portion to impart.
Comfort they promised themselves in thee,
But thou, it seems, to them a grief wilt be.
How oft, how willingly brake they their sleep,
If thou, their bantling, didst but winch or weep.
Their love to thee was such they could have giv'n,
That thou mightst live, almost their part of heav'n.
But now, behold how they rewarded are!
For their indulgent love and tender care;
All is forgot, this love he doth despise.
They brought this bird up to pick out their eyes.
poem by John Bunyan
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What Do You Care
(robert palmer)
Youre such a rebel now can you remember when
They used to think you knew what added up to ten
Youre sick and tired of taking punches to your side
Now youre gonna add it up to any number that you like
(tell me) what do you care
bout what other people think
What do you care
What do you care
bout what other people think
What do you care
You thought thered always be another shot to take
You crave attention now with every move you make
You like to advertise your interest in success
But you dont know on the score of who youre trying to impress
(tell me) what do you care
bout what other people think
What do you care
What do you care
bout what other people think
What do you care
Baby yeah yeah
Everybodys gonna have their say
You cant please everyone
Why delay what you say
Lets decide to name the day
What do you care
bout what other people think
What do you care
What do you care
bout what other people think
What do you care
No matter what you need Ill never be your fool
Do me a favour and Ill do the same for you
Go ahead do what you have to do
Dont worry if you should do it
Tell me you love me now
Oh girl I wish you would do it
What do you care
bout what other people think
What do you care
What do you care
bout what other people think
What do you care
What do you care
bout what other people think
What do you care
What do you care
bout what other people think
What do you care
Baby, yeah yeah
What do you care
bout what other people think
What do you care
What do you care
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why At All I Came To This Earth
Why at all I came to this earth
It must be two years now
Since I am with you all
I really could not make out
How far my parents were happy
On my arrival
I knew I did not get many things
Which I wanted, rather needed
For a total growth
And emotional support
I started noting that
My parents did not like each other
Often they argued on matters
Which were beyond my perception
They too were running short
Of many things, probably
I have two elder sisters
From their talking
I came to know that
Our family was in great trouble
One evening my mom took me from home
And for the first time
We were travelling in a vehicle
Rushing us to a new place
My mom left me with some one
And that some one handed over me
To some other one
Thus I kept on moving from hands to hands
Leaving me to wonder
Where this changing hands will stop
I was a bit comfortable with the
Little girl, the last lap,
Who really attended to my needs
Better than even what my mom did
But some where some thing happened
I started feeling pain on my head
Which persisted and kept on increasing
I could not talk about this
But, cried, cried and cried
The little girl attempted to comfort me
But, it did not relieve my pain
The girl became angry with me
And started beating me
I could not register what went on further
I was in a new environment
Definitely much cleaner and better
Than any of the places I lived so far
All in white
People were attending to me
And giving me what all
They feel I needed
But, here I could not move
All the time in bed
I used to think how nice it will be
If I could spend all my time like this
Things did not happen that way, though
As I could see myself from the above
All these people in white
Keeping busy around me in the bed
I tried to tell them
See, here up, I am very much here
I know, this is death
As my elder sisters told me
You will go up and up
To God's caring hands
Once you die
I am going to Him is what
I understood
But then, tell me
Why at all I came to this earth
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children's role after you:
Birthday: parents to children;
Death anniversary: children to parents;
Marriage: parents for children;
Funeral: children for parents;
Others for these have no right;
Others for these are unfit.
Parents must have these in mind
When they write the will.
15.04.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Not In The Next Few Chapters
I remember how 'old' people seemed,
When they were in their twenties.
And I was then a child...
With a wish to be a teenager.
And I remember walking on my toes,
Wanting to be taller than I was.
Or at least keep up with my father,
Whenever he walked to the neighborhood store.
And I'd walk behind him,
Thinking he was a giant.
And when I then became thirteen,
And my sister Mimmie was still eleven...
I got very bossy.
We were both 'latchkey' kids and...
Well,
I was grown...
I thought.
And I made sure she did things around our apartment,
I just was too 'grown' to do.
Like sweep the floors while I looked at TV.
She hated me.
I didn't care.
I remember being eighteen and being called a 'rainbow',
As the rest of the enlisted boy/men stood at attention...
After arriving at Lackland Air Force Base,
In San Antonio, Texas.
We were called 'rainbow'
Because we were still in our 'civilian' clothes...
And instantly demeaned.
That was their way of making sure we understood,
We were in the military and mom and daddy weren't around.
We were guaranteed to be made full fledged men.
Thirty came in a hurry.
And I had already been divorced and remarried.
And that was in 1977.
I don't know 'why' I didn't like my 40's!
Maybe because they came and went too quickly.
And I was 'still' passing for the age of twenty-five.
That didn't last too long.
In 1987 I got a phone call from my mother,
Telling me my dad was ill and she was concerned.
So as the eldest and only son,
I thought I would leave San Antonio, Texas...
Where I made my home then,
And make a quick weekend trip back to Hartford, Connecticut.
Well...
One very long weekend later,
It is now close to 2011.
My 40's and 50's were a blur.
And today at 63...
With both my parents deceased,
I am just NOW able to say,
I can enjoy every moment of my life consciously.
And feeling a whole lot younger than I look.
I know this may sound crazy, but...
I've got to relive something that I've missed,
Between my 40's and 50's I can remember...
Other than my parents passing away,
And my getting a divorce.
That was number two.
And...
With God's blessing,
I 'hope' not to do a number three.
Not in the next 'few' chapters I hope to write!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I have no more tears to shed
I am Moshe. Two-year old curly haired little one
Just the other day I was with my mom and dad
An unfamiliar person entered our premises and
He had a lot to say to my parents
Of which I could not make out a bit
Then what happened?
The stranger aimed at my parents the weapon he carried
It was all in seconds ny parents fell back,
First my mom. followed by my dad
The stranger left
I had no idea Whether he marked my presence
I reached my mom. ran my palm over her face and
bent over her for an affectionate kiss
Normally she used to hug me intently for a similar act of mine
But she did not move. I shook her head. no response
I shook her hand. no response
And I saw a pool of blood below her motionless hand.
Which held my father’s
I felt something odd
And started crying
Do not know. how long I cried
When my nanny appeared from somewhere
And took me away into the open
It did not take long for me to realise
That my mom and dad are not any where near
I ate whatever offered as I was hungry
Woke up in between.
Only to know that my parents are not nearby
And then to cry
During my entire wakeful hours
I kept crying and
I kept eating something
As and when I felt hungry
Suddenly I was in the midst of a big gathering
Only my nanny was to be seen
The things that went on made me understand that my
Mom and dad have gone quite a far
And it will take long, much longer
Before I could see them again
First time I smiled
At a kid of my size
Stopping my cries
Without realising
I have no more tears to shed
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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