He sits on his armchair
drool escaping his lips
sitting in conscious sleep
in his created kingdom
'Takeaway the plates,
you bitch'
He roars
wanting to control
his waning patriarchy
in the twilight of his life
She does his bidding
grumbling under her breath
making sure he heard
yet a whisper
he cannot decipher
He growls
taking control back
This is my household
My kingdom
He sits on his armchair
eyes like a hawk
letting his sons know
who is still the boss
Dangling the keys
to the shop and the locker
He controls the money
Not trusting his sons
who have adult sons
of their own now
He sits on his armchair
remote in his hand
watching the news
or the chants of
long gone Gods
Its his time
every morning
every evening
His children fidget
wishing to catch a movie
or the new series
waiting for him to give up
sitting on his arm chair
just once
to give them the joy
of a stolen movie
in a kingdom, he owns
He sits on his armchair
reading the newspaper
all morning
She brings him his morning tea
and clears the table
She brings him his breakfast
and clears the table
He commands
Clean this shelf
Clear that sofa
Make this for lunch
expecting his voice
to be heard
even if she is busy
making the morning work
for her school going children
and her chosen God
He sits on his armchair
crushing dreams
with a dismissive hand
'No more education for you
Go sit in the shop
and learn the trade
Too much education
will make you lazy
learn to earn
just like I did
working hard
day and night
loading gunny bags
See the scars
that make me a man
its your turn now'
'A designer you say
what crap of work is that
a real man
works at the shop
commanding
minions and owning his kingdom'
He ignores his pleas
and the silent stifles
a boy being forced to manhood
before his time
A patriarch is born
in the crushing of dreams
He sits in his armchair
sipping his third tea
She stands meakly
hoping against hope
He ponders with forgone conclusion
'Study as much as you would like
but work is not for you
Girls in our family
don't go out to work
Haven't we provided
enough for you
that you seek to earn
and bring shame
to the family name
Do what you wish to
once you are married
Your husband will decide
whether you will live your dreams'
One fine day
He doesn't wake up
sitting on his armchair
drool escaping his lips
A new Patriarch
takes the armchair
and so it is...
drool escaping his lips
sitting in conscious sleep
in his created kingdom
'Takeaway the plates,
you bitch'
He roars
wanting to control
his waning patriarchy
in the twilight of his life
She does his bidding
grumbling under her breath
making sure he heard
yet a whisper
he cannot decipher
He growls
taking control back
This is my household
My kingdom
He sits on his armchair
eyes like a hawk
letting his sons know
who is still the boss
Dangling the keys
to the shop and the locker
He controls the money
Not trusting his sons
who have adult sons
of their own now
He sits on his armchair
remote in his hand
watching the news
or the chants of
long gone Gods
Its his time
every morning
every evening
His children fidget
wishing to catch a movie
or the new series
waiting for him to give up
sitting on his arm chair
just once
to give them the joy
of a stolen movie
in a kingdom, he owns
He sits on his armchair
reading the newspaper
all morning
She brings him his morning tea
and clears the table
She brings him his breakfast
and clears the table
He commands
Clean this shelf
Clear that sofa
Make this for lunch
expecting his voice
to be heard
even if she is busy
making the morning work
for her school going children
and her chosen God
He sits on his armchair
crushing dreams
with a dismissive hand
'No more education for you
Go sit in the shop
and learn the trade
Too much education
will make you lazy
learn to earn
just like I did
working hard
day and night
loading gunny bags
See the scars
that make me a man
its your turn now'
'A designer you say
what crap of work is that
a real man
works at the shop
commanding
minions and owning his kingdom'
He ignores his pleas
and the silent stifles
a boy being forced to manhood
before his time
A patriarch is born
in the crushing of dreams
He sits in his armchair
sipping his third tea
She stands meakly
hoping against hope
He ponders with forgone conclusion
'Study as much as you would like
but work is not for you
Girls in our family
don't go out to work
Haven't we provided
enough for you
that you seek to earn
and bring shame
to the family name
Do what you wish to
once you are married
Your husband will decide
whether you will live your dreams'
One fine day
He doesn't wake up
sitting on his armchair
drool escaping his lips
A new Patriarch
takes the armchair
and so it is...
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