Dear son, I still reside in the weighty walls of this mansion, Yes I call it a mansion.
A mansion where you left me in, A mansion where you promised you would take me back, A promise that I still live upto.
It's been twelve years to that day, I am still waiting, hoping you would take me away.
My dear son, people here try to stop me from hoping, Is it really a false hope?
Don't snatch away the joys of watching my grandchildren play, My second childishness is slowly taking my breath away.
Why don't you take up my calls? Those sixty five years spent with you, Did you just forget them all?
I apologise for the blunders I made in your upbringing, But this is a harsh punishment that I am getting.
I had written a multifold letters to you, And I know I won't be getting a reply for this one too.
This is the last letter that I am writing, For I lay in my death bed and my death is approaching.
So I shall relieve you from all tension, As this old age home has become my mansion. Love, Your dad.