Barrels of pity

11/11/09

They sat around a fire,
on a moonless winter night.
Talking of wrongs I've done,
'cause what they do is right.

I see,behind the fire,their faces shift,
so does my mind.
And I cogitate upon my life,
and all I've left behind.

"Your father is a self made man",
said one of the wise.
My mind tripped again,
as I watched the flames rise.

The only thing that's self made in me,
is something I regret.
That my idea of a perfect life is,
a life that's so imperfect.

Then spoke she,who hadn't yet,
said I'm full of pity for myself.
My life is how I've made it,
and it's only me who can help.

Life is ups and downs they say,
I guessed I'm blind to the ups.
'Cause indeed I have barrels of pity,
but to pour,no cups.

I lay in bed the rest of the night,
brooding over the words they say.
Then walked in He,my father,
asking,what kept me awake?

I hurriedly wiped off my eyes,
before he put on the light.
scavenging my mind for lies,
but saying what was right.

"I have barrels of pity,Dad,
but no cups to pour."
He laughed but looked sad,
knowing there was a lot more.
Life is ups and downs,he said,
I guess you're blind to the ups..
You don't pour your barrels of pity,
'cause already full are your cups.