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The Final Words

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Below is the poem entitled The Final Words which was written by poet Jason kirkwood. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The Final Words

I remember many years ago, when I 
was just a lad,
My biggest hero in my life, happened 
to be my dad. 

I grew up with no siblings, in a 
happy home,
And daily as a child, I'd write  a story 
and a poem. 

I'd discuss how my day went and the 
things that I had done,
And put words to my feelings, be it 
happy, sad or fun. 

I'd keep them in a binder, tucked 
underneath my bed,
Well hidden from intruders, near 
where I'd rest my head. 

Many years later, as a teen, my 
parents separate. 
They tell me dads moving to another  
state. 

He decided to leave his family and 
work on his career,
Things hadn't been so good at home 
for well over a year. 

I hold in the tears, run upstairs and 
begin to write. 
About the terrible news I got, that 
late school  night. 

I rip out my binders, and sit quickly 
in my chair. 
I write "why do I do this, no one 
seems to care". 

I grab all my diaries, from my 
hidden stash,
 throw them in a garbage bag and 
take them out for trash. 

For many years I never took out a 
paper and pen,
I promised myself this day I would 
never write  again. 

I visit my dad often, til life gets in 
the way,
And visits turn to phone calls as we 
run outta things to say.

He would say that he loved me, I'd 
say I loved him too. 
But our conversations remained 
small, we were never really true.  

I get the dreaded  phone call in 
february '11,
God had come to take my dad and 
bring him up to heaven. 

I go through my dads stuff, and 
what defined his life,
Pictures of dead relatives, my family, 
his ex wife. 

I miss the times we had, even our 
silent talks,
Hidden in his closet, I pull out a big 
box. 

When I move the box,  I can't 
believe my eyes,
My family runs in the room, when 
they hear my sobbing cries. 

The writings I had thrown out so 
many years before. 
Were neatly piled behind the box, on 
the closet floor. 

I read through the pages, memories 
flood my mind,
My life as a child so neatly defined. 

I make it to the last page, I find 
written in blue, under "No one seems 
to care"
My Daddy wrote "I do"

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  1. Date: 9/13/2012 12:31:00 AM
    Whoa! Now there's a touching narrative! Nicely written Jason! I can only imagine the emotions at the time of revelation. Nice!