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Poem

No saints amongst us write a father’s song,
He writes his own which claims no innocence,
As tones of sadness urge he move along,
His pen now takes the stand in his defense;
Atop the desk where sit respondent’s words,
Are pictures taken of his darling girls;
For them he’d fight an army full of swords,
And let none question love's  resplendent pearls.
Though flawed imperfect flesh is worn as own,
And lonely eyes are often blind by mist,
He states emphatic that he’s never thrown,
Not once in life an angry violent fist.
  May all now know forevermore this claim –
  I’ll fight ‘til death for they that share my name.


Respectfully Submitted,

Phillip M. Garcia, Respondent
Father of Ava Elise Garcia
Father of Lily Belle Garcia

10/29/2016

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