A Gift To The World's Best Dad Poem by Somali Mukherjee

Like an umbrella,
You protect all of us;
Every little corolla
Is saved from the fuss.

This world may change a lot,
But your affection never;
Life is a battle to be fought;
You teach me so forever.

When it comes down to quarrel,
You become silent, so silent;
Overflows your barrel
Of pain and sentiment.

I know I cause you pain;
I do get over remorse;
If it happens time and again,
There remains no love, but force.

I tell you 'sorry',
A word too little to say;
It all becomes a different story,
As atonement's told 'nay'.

As I hurt you a lot, Dad,
My heart, too, does, does bleed;
My temper turns me as if mad;
I commit another ill deed.

Still, you keep blessing me,
Though I don't change, Dad;
I tread on the path of memory
To find the best dad.

I wish to control my wrath;
I do wish to stay calm;
To return to the right path,
I need you, Dad, my true chum.

As the worst sinner,
I blame you, I blame mum;
I try to be cleaner,
But my sins snatch my hum.

Life is so uncanny
That I don't think a bit;
I make my destiny
Worse by staying unlit.

I disgrace myself the most
By blaming you and mum;
Two angels from a host,
You both remain so calm.

We go to watch magic;
We pay pennies for that;
Our lives become more tragic
As we ignore your magic, O Dad.

My voice is getting choked
With the lump in my throat;
Whom I must have evoked
Keeps me afloat.

Anyway, Dad, anyway,
It's time to light a candle;
A very happy birthday
From us, whom you fondle.

No more tears; only smile;
Many happy returns of the day;
Bereft of any phony style,
We wish you again, 'Happy Birthday! '