Backstreet- II

I've experienced my creativity reaching in dark corners of humanity, which has left me in an unconcluded world. We all witness unfair incidents, some out of us extend our help and some could pass sympathy and we all take away some lesson from it. 

Backstreet is a series of my poems from those dark corners, in which I've tried to bring my imaginations sweeping these unfair stories. Backstreet-II belongs to an old father whose son ignored his emotions towards him and the couch. 

Here is is...

An old father from backstreet

Backstreet being rushed today,

Maybe school kids sold to scrap dealer, all their books.

Or, somebody got mugged by a crook. 

But it was horrible when his favorite cigar was found in a brook

Something must have gone wrong,

Seems like someone had attacked him.

How can anyone be cruel to that old.

I heard his son sold that couch, the old man gifted late wife from his first wage.

They say, only the couch and their son are left from his good days.   

Before this, all other memories were similarly tattered. 

He begged not to let that couch crushed in pieces, 

Only wants to spend his few last days in same thesis.

Everyone knew his bowed back won't let him live even a month more

He lost the couch and his hopes to live more.  

Same say he was dethroned and from long he was sleepless, 

Backstreet rose with one more cortege, leaving humanity speechless. 

@BrownRadha