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* My brilliant, hard-wroking, honest Dad ... my hero. *
“Thin, I think, that fabric between realities. Maybe minds aren't lost. Maybe they just slip through and find a different place to wander.” - C.J. Tudor
I shan't yet my dear father find
For age has robbed him of his mind
He works at grasping from the air
The careful tasks that are not there
One time his life was quite precise
No straining Id no hooking vice
Integrity worth brags and boasts
Yet now he sits engaging ghosts
It's strange that I can I find it odd
For never did he once applaud
A deed or act that gave me pride
(Oh true it crushed me deep inside)
I struggled so to reach the man
While all our courses empty ran
But as I begged to be his friend
Too great the distance in the end
I'll never know this man you see
Though few I love as dear as he
For tho' his best was not enough
He taught me love by being tough
So now his spark has up-and-gone
This brilliant man I hoped upon
No grace is his this sad goodbye
No answer mine the question ... why?!?
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Writing Challenge 2, July 2019 - Melancholy" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2019
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