TWO GROWN MEN

" Two grown men,

And their shoulders for each other's pain."

Those words were forming, on the tip of my tongue,

A question waiting, forming to be sung,

But then the morning sun pulled me back,

Off the dream's ethereal hazy, pristine track.

My father called me, yesterday,

It was all fine, till he said, he lost a friend,

He was ailing, finally given to the Almighty 's will.

Consoled, stayed with him, for a while on the phone.

He said, " I don't like it, anymore, alone,"

All of his friends, almost to the Otherside.

Those words were settled, on the tip of my tongue,

I dreamt of you, my dear brother,

Traveling to somewhere, free from fear,

Traveling to somewhere, free from hunger.

So young you seemed, happy and lean,

And I am, so happy, just to see,

In that bright, mysterious foggy maze,

That peaceful, joyous, vibrant "thee."

Those words were forming, on the tip of my tongue,

A question waiting, forming to be sung,

But then the morning sun pulled me back,

Off the dream's ethereal hazy, pristine track.

Those words settled, on the tip of my tongue,

In quietude, this is my only and the way,

In search of my peace, and meet and message each day.

To calm the voices abusing, to stay quite sane,

I wrote for my world, to ease the pain,

Sometimes I write of you, and ease the pain.

I found my aid, in this wild worst place,

I found my words, heavy, painful and to be playful,

Yet, I stayed with my father, till he bares his chest,

Two grown men, and thier shoulders for each other's pain.

@©Shafqat MH - 2025

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I wrote this poem not just for myself, but for anyone who has leaned on another, or offered their shoulder in return. I hope it brings you a moment of quiet reflection and connection.

What does 'shared pain' mean to you? Feel free to reply to this email or leave a comment on the post.

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