The Making Of...

Trust me; I am a good man, but always like to wink, With a heart of solid gun, hard to break and bend, I love my children; Keep them close to my heart, I love them, I adore them and I work for them. Tell my drinking buddies, goodness of their studies, Mostly they talk about politics, Philosophies and ended as tortoise, Hiding their head in the stupor shell, eyes looking at the offing, Of course, I love my wife, She is pretty good and better at the rifle, She could look through the darkness, Of my guarded mind and deliberates me, What I thought and what I had done, Her nose is worse than the canine, Could smell the details of my khakis, Shirt, singlet and even the wallet, Trust me I love her so much, To the bottom of that gun, I actually do not know, , What that makes me to fling, Truly, breaking hearts, Is not my choice of task, She has claimed that I break her heart, Children blasted that their hearts too, My children behave like the strangers, Live as the neighbors in my own house, I look at the horizon to find out the answer, What went wrong, when I am perfect? What is not right when I exercise my right? It is very cruel to live in this house, Should I run away from the responsibilities? Should I say sorry and mend the torn? Should I stay and continue with my tactics? Would I end up as my buddies, to go for the drinks after work? Would I end up as the tortoise, to hide from realities? would I end up in the bench to look at the buildings?