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failing to see which road would be best, not knowing how much i've really been blessed- too much time on my hands with too much fear, wishing you, my father, were still near cramped in a box without room to breathe, needing more than this life can believe- my constant friend is gone like the breeze in Spring, as I hear the sparrows in your birdhouse sing my reason for good health has been taken away, little to do with the words that they say- not living as I should when on the road that you led, thinking of you lying gently on your death bed i remember your aftershave in the morn, before work in your suit---(now I'm tattered and torn) afraid to go forward without you by my side, wishing i could run to your loving arms and hide a father, a friend, too much pain to have to bear, i'll always wish we had more time to spare- loving and dying and crying without you, fearing my sobriety will somehow fall through but i sit and watch your sparrows create a family, remembering how important you are to me- i miss you and wish you were holding me in youth, hoping that you can hear my truth a porch swing to feel the breeze whisper a secret, knowing it's a gift- (and i shall always keep it)- living so that you can be proud of me, i miss you, dear father... for you're the sparrow in me _____________________________________ to my dad- who every year watched the sparrows mate and create a family in his special birdhouse on his porch. I heard them singing and wrote this poem. Love you, dad- I pray you are listening to the sparrows in heaven with Karen... love, your little girl -luloo 7.23.21
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