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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required His face, withered, gaunt His eyes cloudy, filled with a haunting vacancy His voice weak , shallow Seldom spoken these last difficult days His hair is white and thin His skin, so delicate and discolored The strength has left his fragile body And he lies, waiting Yet I remember the man who was my Father In my youth, so tall and strong His eyes a deep blue with a depth of the seas Thick, wavy, black hair tousled about his head He walked with an unaware arrogance Never knowing that all eyes were upon him This handsomest of men, beautiful, confident No one could match his brilliance, his seductive air Unconscious, innocent of the power he possessed The command he held with peers, a leader of men A bright star in the universe, a life spent searching for answers Politics, Economics, Religion…his battlegrounds Yet, with all his perfection He remained kind and true to all Generous, loving; never an unkind word A light for all who knew him But the cruelty of life is worse for some His body wracked with an unforgiving disease Seizing him, slowly at first…a tremor Then completely, leaving him helpless Dependent upon those who had worshipped his strength Lying in his bed, languished, weak Nearly impossible to eat, difficult to drink Each day descending further into darkness Life’s cruelest blow to one so special Chosen by angels as their brightest star So blessed to have loved such a man Still loved, but pitied for the terrible loss For such men were never meant to suffer this fate To fade each day, closer to oblivion He would never have chosen this Broken, suffering silently in stoic resignation Pride now replaced with painful gratefulness He tries to manage a smile His rigid muscles fighting the instinct For he spent his life smiling But old age has given him no peace No time to reflect on the legacy he leaves He waits as life deals its unjust ending For one who was so great, so good I hold his cold, thin hand in mine Holding back the tears that burn I will remember him, the Father whom I have loved I see him walk away, wavy black hair, a cute little wink As he leaves this tired shell, worn, used up Once again becoming the unbroken man I see him strut again, his quick, bouncy steps As he climbs the ladder to the heaven he has earned I hear the trumpets of the angels Welcoming their special creation A man of compassion and ideals My Father, My Daddy…How I will miss him
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