To my old and tired eyes, You look so small my dear. But I know that in your eyes, I am so huge, my dear! What all have I done to be, Kept in that exalted position? I ask this myself, but to be Frank, there is no conclusion. I haven't even provided you Some things you wanted dear. Neither was I kind to you, At times instilling fear. The greatest praise one can get Comes but from the spouse. The easiest, one always gets Is his children's love. Perhaps thats the reason why You keep me so much high. As I realize this and cry, Your fingers wipe my eyes. p.s. An old man's note to his child.