The Hand of Calculation

Author’s Note: 17 years = Length of parents’ marriage

He writes and plans

and plans and writes

his mathematical hand it does

He plans his flee from his homeland

to seek another life he does

He wants no responsibility of his children

but he brought them up he did

His plans of calculation,

so brilliantly crafted,

it’s no surprise he ascended in Calculus,

his only friend of seventeen years

who helped him plan his quest

So he planned a new wife

and he planned a new life

and left his mistress in distress

God bless her our mother

he said she was not compatible,

for her passion was fashion

and his passion planning

It’s no wonder he rejected her intentions,

for wasn’t he the best at planning?

And thus, here we are

in our mediocre homeland

watching our mother of four

try her very best to feed us

and to guide us

One could not be more grateful

to have such a mother

of beautiful brown ringlets

and of cheeks as red as roses

that reminded me of our attachment

Her legacy lies in our hair and cheeks,

the rest is to be forever nested deep

in our evergreen eyes that you gave us

an omen that constantly reminds me of snakes

and of our indispositions to come

One can only hope to pull a mandrake from the ground at times like these

to rid himself of illnesses of every kind

and to attain eternal life

And if it were not an elixir for eternal life

then let it be for a happy one

Why did you leave us here father?

Why did you run?

For now you have given us everything and then nothing,

and we love you close to none.