Pain..

They say, pain
now is the only saving grace and
should actually be upbeat.
Shows, its not dead yet.
And if its dead?
Oh, we need to cut it off,
even if it is your dad's leg.
The same one, made his poly
lift the cup, eons ago in bare foot.
The same one, he kicked me with
on the day I snaked my way home
head high in the blue clouds.
The same one, but a decayed root
that may pull the tree down
anytime now and the shade it gives too.
Pain, of course is the saving grace and
say grace, its not dead yet.
I now beam when he writhes
cos I know now, its not gone yet.
He may still limp through and 
dust those sepias up himself, of
him holding the cup aloft.
This pain I feel now shows
my heart is not shut
completely on him and 
I dont really bother
even if he kicks me again.