Another Father's DayAnother day without you
Another gilded stride along derisive shadows
My hands tucked into the side jacket pockets, thumbs folded down,
Cigar smoke is a veil to my extent,
Moonbeam silhouette my seclusion near thinning pathways,
My suit says one thing, while my heart speaks another,
If you were here maybe I would had been perfect, unto God an equal rises,
Maybe if you were here this ire would be no more, shaking an clenched fist to the outsiders.
Perhaps your presence would make me a meaningful husband, an emissary to love so many convene.
At your tombstone I lay to rest lucidity, for I never seen it, but in my mind.
Two, three maybe four flowers a few petunias and snapdragons outlaying,
Laid upon this confused walkway for it's as far as I'm walking evermore.
toxins exploited to your body, a robot formed from your very follies, the white man was holding you down was your best retort to a lethargic regime.
Whenever you left, 15, 18 years ago, the time is much too trivial today,
Not one tear from you fell from these peering eyes
Rest now old man, for you're not at fault,
For the mind is weak,
And the body even weaker
For these flaccid petunias and snapdragons bundled together with a rubber band held tight,
To lay at this glass tombstone built upon this flawed path leaned on the telephone pole,
It's the most either of us done for one another.
Poetry by wolfthepoet
Read 591 times
Written on 2006-06-24 at 14:33
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