When papa died, it became clear
I stepped into the shoes he held dear
Though he wanted me by his side
The gulf between us was so wide
Our habitual ways were worlds apart
I needed to adjust and to make a start
Before sudden death took him away
I am left here to do things my way
I asked for the counsel of an elder
To watch over my right shoulder
For my mistakes, I was so sorry
The old man told me not to worry
He took me by the hand for a talk
And showed me around where to walk
An old man response to my question
Restrained, I needed full attention
He did not give his answers directly
Even when talking to me privately
Telling me a story about some event
That was the mode he chose to present
While answers were embedded therein
Treasures I searched to find from within
To make peace where there was none
I was very careful not hurt anyone
I sent words round for a family meeting
Everyone could hear the drum beating
Calling on all to come and have a say
Democracy is now the order of the day
Comments
honestly mate,
I think this is a classic case of demeaning the content by restricting it to form.
I think it would be better structured with a strong meter without rhyme. Here's a hint I use. Listen to a drumbeat while writing. It has to be a simple rhythm, African spiritual drumming, though often complex, works well.
I know that means a complete re-write but I think the emotional and spiritual content is lost in the current format, especially as you use grammatical inversions that make it sound like Yoda (Star Wars)
Jess
You are right, the piece could be better written in a form you recommend and thank you for the insight. Well, in my attempt to experiment on rhyme scheme, it is clear that the 'spontaneous overflow of powerful feeling' used in describing a poem could be diluted in a wide range of cases by adhering rules.
I have taken your suggestions to heart, I will try to restructure this piece.
For your frankness, your time on my scribbles and for your guidance, thank you.
tr