I still believe it must be something else,
But the joke is, he read some book I'd written,
For, he banned his kids from talking to me,
Who, as if the kitchen mortar eaten,
Did just that: stopped from talking to me.
The daughter was 12, the son was 8,
And 2015 may be a decade too late - -
But, I'm curious (as nature has made my
brain cells be)that these two, cousins
I search on Facebook. Through technology.
To be a doctor, she wanted; was
High on physics, astronomy. As a teen
Chauffered about, she once said
That she wants to give back to society
And it is as a doctor she wanted her dues be paid.
The son was what at 8 such a son can be.
He looked like his father (mother's skin tone)
And I've seen them together -a Dr. Evil and a kinda Mini Me.
Then, they stopped talking the next time we met,
He would giggle, but not speak. The girl's face was set.
In the search bar comes her name, ten years
Is as long a time as time can get; and she
Beams through her profile, that once teen face unset.
An accountant, apparently, posing against the sun set,
A faint trace of the child I once knew somewhere there, half hidden.
Few photos and a post - - security's generally tight,
And as I drag the cursor further up to the right,
She's disabled the function to receive requests
(An accountant knows how to balance it best) ,
Almost as if they saw me, a decade from then,
A few books later, and now -a certified pest,
Making this move on a night given to relatives
That may have mattered, among other relatives
I sincerely wish would die, or are dead.
Sigh. No request option that way, instead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Vihanga. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.