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Father ABC Poems | ABC Poems About Father

These Father ABC poems are examples of ABC poems about Father. These are the best examples of Father ABC poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | ABC |

Battle of the words

Bravery is the father of fears
Dreams are distant cousins of nightmares
Hope is the sister of prayers
Every night shame lays down and gets screwed by despair
Pollution abuses Mrs. atmosphere
It's a battle between personality and reality 
But obviously nobody cares
Maybe it's because big tough is the uncle of little scared
Planning is deeply in love with prepared
Procrastination is the biggest enemy of determination
Ignorance is jealous of realization
Sometimes strength can get sneak attacked by temptation
Silence can never defeat a great proclamation
When the brain disagrees with the heart
The body dies of complications


Love your self...



Details | ABC |

In my Heart You Will Always Stay.

                           In my heart you will always stay.But I know your there
                           watching over me.I know your by my side.But I still
                           miss you.Just because I can't see you.I know your
                           there.You whisper in my ear and say your still my
                          little girl.But I know I will see you again.


Details | ABC |

Daddy the Alcoholic

Daddy the alcoholic,
 every single day,
full and countless glasses,
 guzzled down,
help him please, and bring my daddy back to me.


Details | ABC |

Just a kiss

Count the stars one by one an put one 
in your pocket.
Give it a kiss and name an place it in
a locket.
If your star should ever lose its shine
just give it another kiss an you will 
find
that your star will always be near to 
keep you strong an to never have a 
fear.
If your star should ever loss its
flame
Just give it another kiss and whisper
its name.
If your star should ever get weak just
give it another kiss and a promise you'll
forever keep.
But if the day should ever come that you 
forget your stars name
Dont feel bad or feel any shame
Just give it another an you will reacall
that the only name for your star will 
always be baby doll


Details | ABC |

My Father's cleats

 It’s funny how my father’s hobby became mine. He has been a sportsman all his life, he played basketball, volleyball and softball all his youth, but his real passion is soccer and even though he is 55 years old now, he still keeps playing it and loving it. He has had all kinds of cleats, all brands, all colors, different styles, but it does not change anything, he still plays amazing. But one thing I do find hilarious is that every time he comes from a game, he cleans his cleats, he washes them and takes them with such an unbelievable affection, that I’m beginning to think that he might love them more than he loves me, but now I do know the feeling of a new shiny, hard and beautiful pair of cleats. I still recall when he took me for my very first pair, I could not believe he was doing it for me, I was so excited, but now I realize that what I was excited about is that I could be like my father for just a moment when I had them on. Ever since I was little, I remember my daddy playing soccer, leaving home all dressed up, ready to fight, and win the ball to make a remarkable roll on the field. The playing field that we both love, the field all covered in grass, all green, so delicious and soft, so colorful… being crashed by everyone’s cleats and the rolling ball, feeling the sunlight on our skin, and the wind on our faces. Having a team, an extra family with whom we could find support and create new ideas, new plays so we could smash the opponent. So yes, I loved watching him play and cheering him up more than I could ever like watching official and famous soccer teams. I do find funny the fact that my father’s hobby became mine since everyone says we’re too similar, and even though he also has a son, his daughter is with whom he shares that connection. I love the fact that our simple relationship was started thanks to such a manly sport, and curiously, to transform me into such a girly girl.


Details | ABC |

Grandpa

A boy needs a Grandpa, 
for man-to-man talks. 
To go hand in hand, 
on companionable walks. 
To fix up his toys, 
when they no longer go. 
To tell him the things, 
little boys want to know. 
A boy needs a Grandpa, 
to show him the way. 
To handle a puppy, 
to teach him fair play. 
To impart bits of wisdom, 
he's learned through the years.
That it's no disgrace, 
for a man to shed tears. 
A boy needs a Grandpa, 
to sit on his lap. 
And if no one is looking, 
they take a wee nap. 
Each wrapped in an aura, 
of love and esteem. 
Each smiling gently, 
at some special dream.


By William P. Darnell Sr.


Details | ABC |

you dont listen

you think I got listen to you, 
you just my kids father,
there noting between me and you,
it seem the words take you back to court is your favorite words,
get this Sheena Shenia Jackson isn't scare of no court system or even you,
its just a word that is there, 
so if you ask me you just things to make women scared im not scare of you like I use to,
I have became stronger and wiser, 
I have the Lord behind me, 
I believe in him very strong,
so if you want to bring me back to court lets do this now, 
you are just a man that God put on this earth, 
and I fear no man, no woman and no body, 
I am a King child forever,

by : Sheena Shenia Jackson 
May 23, 2013


Details | ABC |

My father s blue Grand Maqruis

My father had this car, not very expensive but very fast. It was old, it was squared, it was blue… a Grand Marquis it was. My dad used to wash it whether it rain, snow or shine. It was right on the garage, I remember, not too close, not too far; it was nice and clean, it was his most special thing. It was old; it was a blue squared Grand Marquis. He loved to drive it, he loved to race it, and everybody in the family embraced it. A day came by, the Grand Marquis he let me drive. At first, I was nervous, I was stressed, I was pretty upset; at last, I was excited, I was thrilled… I was fascinated. This was my first time I drove a car, and even it was my first driving experience, it wasn´t so hard. I loved it, I raced it, just as my dad used to train me. Suddenly, technology came by my door and a portable telephone was installed on the floor. It was the first “not home phone” that I saw, It was the first portable phone in my home. It felt strange, it felt kind weird, it felt as if the world was getting newer and newer, and I was getting older and older, it felt as if the world was spinning and spinning and I was steady and steady; it felt so strange that when I realized, it had went out of range. My father used to race, he loved speed, he loved adrenaline, and of course… he loved me. My mother got scared when he drove the Marquis, she used to scream, shout, yell and cry, she used to dislike it and get out of it, she used to get cranky and sometimes angry. Then, another new artifact came by. What? A trailer horn? Yes indeed, a trailer horn was put in place. There it was, this shiny brass, there it was, this noisy trash. We used to have fun with it, I remember, I remember; we used to laugh scaring people, Oh medieval boys we were! So there it was, this lovely car, shinny, brilliant and old. It was lovely, it was squared, a blue Grand Marquis it was.  I would remember it forever, I would never forget it, I would save all the memories and I would smile when the memory come by. With or without the artifacts… we would miss it, we would miss it.


Details | ABC |

Never Thought It Would Happen

We began so little and young, 
Life beat us bad and twisted our tongue.
You and I walked a pretty rough road I can say
When you stumbled I was always there to make you stay.

Stay and not give up, I didn't give up on you than, so I wont give up on you now, 
We danced our life so brutally and softly, but this time you didn't look my way and bounced. 
I thought we would go on like this forever, but I guess like people say, 
Nothing lasts forever.


Details | ABC |

My Father Corn mill

Standing in the center of my father’s village
Is a mysterious corn mill
Which produces the worst of flour
Even when served with the best of corns of the land
So in hunger, his offspring always weep

Across the coast off my father’s village
Lies this giant but old corn mill
Which receives grains from father’s fields
To produce flour, honey and milk
To serve and fill the mouths of its offspring
Sometimes to the benefit of those not his offspring

So why should the corn mill of my father breed the worst?
Without a lesson from him that mills across the coast
While the children of the land grow pale and frail
The pawpaw’s bridegroom dances and waves
Is it the chorus of the tunes that spreads loud from its wings?
Or it’s a heritage that needs to be preserved to appease the gods


So when would the miseries of my siblings come to rest
Should I send spies to the corn mill we were once forced to build
Or awake the doors of the gods with a penny
To discover the corn mill and my father’s destiny


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