My dad has been gone
for all of these days
and I am seeing him now
in many new ways
I see my father in reflections
and behind the closed doors
I see him on the streets
and in empty drawers
He drove by me one day
but it wasn’t him
Perhaps he waved at me
with my thoughts at whim
I heard his voice one morning
but I didn’t reply
January was last time I heard from him
with no goodbye
They placed you in a box
after dressing you real nice
They painted your bruises
Your hands were precise
We carried you with grief
to the hole they’d turned up
Your shots were fired
your flag folded and tucked
Your eldest son cried
as he was handed the shroud
that covered your coffin
You made your country proud
We sold your belongings
and took what we wanted
You left us with materials and memories
and all those places you’ve haunted
Sometimes I see you
smiling sometimes
with your disgruntled look
and permanent lines
I smell your cigarettes
the ones you had put away
so many years prior
before you were gray
I hear your voice
while you’d punched my mother
so loud it still rings
I still run for cover
I’ve seen your good sides
and most of the bad…
But what hurts the most though…old man
You were always my dad
Beautifully written. Brought tears to my old eyes this morning.
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I know the deep meaning behind this post. You lost your dear father, and now you really miss him. May his soul rest in peace…
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Yes, I do miss him. Thanks for your condolences. Blessings to you.
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Thanks, and mine as well. Blessings 🙏
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You are welcome.. I do not know how exactly does it feel when you lose your father, but when I lost my grandfather few months ago, I was very despondent.
Warm regards with a cup of coffee,
William Johnson
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Very sorry for your losses. May you be comforted by His love. Enjoy your cup, William!
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Thank you Damon!!
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You’re welcome
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Great poetry. Keep up the good work and thank you for visitung my blog.
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Thanks, and you’re welcome 😊
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