For You

For You

A Poem by Charles Konsor

We all want to believe our children will love us
Hold us, kiss us, stay with us,
and wrap their little hands around our fingers
Big eyes watch big people with big love

But they're a squirmy type
Run away, out of our arms
No matter how far we stretch

Exploring dust bunnies in corners
Carrying shoes to bury in the sand box
They all, will all, run away

And you see then,
Perhaps they are not yours.

Individuals behind those big eyes
And we, again, are left to watch
Like past loves left,
Mother, fathers, gone,
And a thousand friends,
drifted away

We own no one,
Our children owe nothing
And we will all realize how little we are
How alone we are

And in that we must find some happiness
We must find some truth
For them, for us,
For you

© 2015 Charles Konsor


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Featured Review

I am here, in this place you describe so well.

Alone, in the middle. Alone as a son and a father.
Both drawing away, and having been drawn away from.

My father; me, a father and
My sons; me a son.

And do they see the writer's heart I wear on my writer's sleeve, my parents, my children. me, in the middle.

[- - - - - - - - - >] Likemeter(tm)

Posted 18 Years Ago


7 of 7 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

I love this poem very powerful a me yet sadly true.

Posted 8 Years Ago


This poem is beautiful..... How we can never hold on for too long to someone because every body's got their own way and everyone's got their own path in life. '
Lovely! Keep writing!

Posted 8 Years Ago


You actually made me think about this. The fact that you said is the truth. But why would parents own their children? They can only love their child or children. They cannot own them. It is not a business. It is just pure love. This love does not hold anyone. They can go and come. But this can the person feeling this love not to get away from here. On the whole this was very well written. Just this point holds me back from telling this poem perfect. Still it is beautiful and sad.

Posted 8 Years Ago


Nailed me. the last two stanzas didnt grab me so much as the theme of the poem and the fantastic point of view you wrote it through. wonderfully doen pulling me completely in. liked it to say the least

Posted 9 Years Ago


The loneliness is the ultimate gift for a man given by his life though whatevr, whomevr he is. It is well said in these lines in a beautiful manner Cheers :)))

Posted 9 Years Ago


Very well penned, and well thought out piece. I have not had children, yet, myself, but none-the-less, your words still hit home and made me feel like I knew that sort of sorrow and simultaneous understanding of the need to find happiness. Beautiful piece, indeed. =]

Posted 9 Years Ago


"We own no one,
Our children owe nothing
And we will all realize how little we are
How alone we are

And in that we must find some happiness
We must find some truth
For them, for us,
For you"

Nice one!!!!!!I gathered my thoughts when i were a kid (y)

Posted 9 Years Ago


Very well written, with great insight and wonderful meaning! And in that we must find some happiness
We must find some truth
For them, for us,
For you...so true, I have 2 out of the house now and realize the depth of your words! Thank you for sharing

Posted 9 Years Ago


Wow this was really beautiful, I like your voice. "Big eyes watch Big people with Big love"-- such a good line right there. Thanks.

Posted 10 Years Ago


William Richards

9 Years Ago

I agree, that was my favourite line too
Children ARE exceptional creatures.Trusting, wide eyed, clever,always searching for answers and when find them, they're gone. And then we chase them for the rest of our lives..........felt like a kid again after reading you poem, felt like a parent again after reading your poem, will help me to get behind my grand children's eyes maybe I'll see them better...............now

Posted 10 Years Ago



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Stats

7423 Views
138 Reviews
Shelved in 13 Libraries
Added on February 6, 2008
Last Updated on January 23, 2015
Tags: children, poetry, growing up, ownership, love, memories, dust bunnies

Author

Charles Konsor
Charles Konsor

Portland, OR



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