Thicker than Water

He sat in his favourite corner,

Each day, just taking his pills,

The old man, Frederick Horner

Counting his cash and paying his bills,

They watched and noted his every move,

Took note of each sign of life,

He’d outlived both of his daughters,

And even his scheming wife.

 

He never revealed how old he was

And nobody knew the truth,

He said he was old as Methusaleh,

Remembered the Biblical Ruth,

He still had the very first dollar he’d earned

Had framed it, and locked in his drawer,

But now he had multi-billions,

And each day added more.

 

‘You’d think he would give us some,’ they said,

His sons, Nathaniel and George,

For they had to work for their daily bread,

And Nathaniel slaved at a forge.

‘He can’t live forever,’ George opined

‘And then it will pass to us,’

The money was always on George’s mind,

As he drove the local bus.

 

‘We’re not getting younger,’ Nathaniel said,

‘I’m forty and you’re forty-two,

We could have made good if he’d shown some trust,

But look at our Becky and Sue.

They both died young, of neglect they said,

And mother, she died from the shakes,

But he goes on, he’s just about dead,

It must be those pills he takes.’

 

They’d watched him taking his yellow pills,

He never said what they did,

The blue, kept under the windowsill,

The orange, the old man hid.

‘It must be them that keep him alive,

The orange, the yellow and blue,

What if we take the pills away?’

‘You can, but it’s up to you.’

 

‘Maybe we ought to try them first,

They could give us both long life.’

‘They didn’t do much for her,’ said George,

‘The old man’s second wife.’

Nathaniel nodded and looked quite grim

He remembered the yellow pills,

Spilling out of the woman’s hand

When she fell down, deadly ill.

 

They’d never been close to their father when

Their mother suddenly died,

Whenever there was an argument

They’d taken their mother’s side,

The old man sat in his corner and

Would mutter of stains and blood,

Would wait for a glimmer of light to shine

But doubted they understood.

 

‘We’ll try the blue, one pill apiece

One night when he’s in his bed,’

And so they did, they swallowed them down,

In seconds they fell down dead.

The old man grinned in his final breath,

‘Too curious, those two,

They should have asked who their father was

For it wasn’t me… I knew!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Warren Daniel II]

Oh my, I really didn't see that coming at the end, I have never read a plot twist within a poem this was a first for me. I really enjoyed this stanza "We’re not getting younger,’ Nathaniel said,
‘I’m forty and you’re forty-two,
We could have made good if he’d shown some trust,
But look at our Becky and Sue.
They both died young, of neglect they said,
And mother, she died from the shakes,
But he goes on, he’s just about dead,
It must be those pills he takes." Great job

[Not here]

This is a really good poem. I like the storyline, and I like that it rymns. It makes it so much easier to read. Congratulations on this!

[Barbz]

You made me smile, as you brought to mind child's tale, with like name Horner. Although, not quite a fairie tale, his chair Was in the Corner. While seated there, he pondered why, time had not stood still. His wife had died, his daughter,too, not lost, the dollar bill. This is where the story starts, or perhaps it ends. For sons with eyes upon their share, to him were just pretends. Great Twist......still smiling....Barbz