A Fruitless Father

For a length of days of longing for life;
Chasing around air
From horizontal to vertical axes,
Read a horary I made for you
Like zoanthropy property.
A square peg in a round hole,
Is that way you live your life?
Rather be a tale of moon sing by nippers
Or rat-hole to the households;
Your breeds cause babble in the streets
When their middle-age life are mess
They're beggars in every nook and cranny
With hope of securing a home;
In all the above senses, home is brutal.
A pathologist diagnosed your loss of originality
While you ran away from the sky for healing
Your legs raced faster in a potholes road,
Jingled like key in the keyhole
Dangling and swinging to and fro
Around the cardinal directions
Homeless perseverance presides your destitute of hope
Child- upbringing is not your ultimate priority;
Then, what is your asset?
You're nothingness’
While emptiness is your expectation.