my father lives in memories
quiet muffled place
lined and ordered with
phantom do's and don'ts
i was overly bright
even insulting
a constant challenge
pushing forwards
pushing back pushing
in all directions
i know how it is clearly now
because i have a son
but with my father and i
unfortunately
there came a point
where we settled up
concluded business
didn't bother to even
say goodbye
goodluck
and still kept on
living
he and i may have been
looking for someone else
all along but couldn't
see this
but who were we looking
for? who had to be different?
2 comments:
That's sad.
I really miss people, when I know they ain't there. Dead or alive. In another poem I wrote, "...they say you can't make someone love you/ but sometimes they should..."
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