In the quiet of their home, two souls reside,
A father stern, a mother with dreams denied.
Their whispers echo through corridors of time,
Painting the backdrop where his words would climb.

His father, a shadow cast wide and long,
A figure of discipline, both strict and strong.
In the silence of their gaze, tales unfold,
Of ambitions pursued, yet stories untold.

A mother’s gentle touch, a silent plea,
For the world she imagined, but might never see.
Her kindness a balm, in a world so vast,
Anchoring the poet in memories of the past.

Together they crafted a realm of thought,
Where dreams mingled with the lessons taught.
In their legacy, the poet found his start,
Carving his path with ink and heart.