By Amna Javed
This poem and its title have been inspired by The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams.
So the music in the background started to play
So he set on a journey far away,
And he promised that he will write to me
And that I will get a postcard from him one day.
And promises are only just a fickle game
So he looked back with those blank hollow eyes,
And set on a journey far away, without any goodbye
And then there I knew what has gone, shall never come by.
He never wrote. He never sent a postcard.
I knew he has gone past the setting sun,
Sailed over the seven seas
Traveled to the moon, maybe.
He was a painter, a piper, a martyr.
He was a prisoner, he was a song
He was never to return
And I was just a child.
So the music played in the background
And I pictured him wading through the sun.
He never wrote, never remembered that I was his son
I knew things will never come around.
The sun was setting, the setting sun.
I held in my hand a postcard from him at last!
After all the wait,
He will tell me of his adventures.
He will tell me everything about the world,
All I could see was a picture of the setting sun
And an empty boat over the shining water
And then everything was a blur.
For I could not understand then I understood now!
The very words were trickling away.