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To My Father

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To My Father

Eight O' clock. 
January of the last 
Of the twentieth 
The hormones hit 
her head high like 
You became a 
pater, full fledged.

You received me 
and danced after 
battling with 
Your loins had 
become friend 
with the creator
Your blood had 
been bounded in 
the world
Your ink had 
signed the 
Drums have been 
rolled out.

Your toilings have 
been justified;
Knowing you can 
rest in peace any 
hour you choose;
And grooming 
your prince,
To meet his queen.
Bless your fight on 
that night

O sire, bless your 
good work
Bless your hale 
holy heart,
Bless the June day
Bless the teachings
My Roman Bishop, 
you are.

Sweet man from 
the waters
Generous dude 
from the soil
I'll never stop 
Best father in the 
Well done fathers.

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