My Brothers
Brothers
My brothers and I use to climb trees so high
Race to see who'd be the first to touch the sky
We made castles of paper cardboard boxes and sticks
Played great magicians and shared our tricks
We built our treehouse-like there was no other
I played each day with my friends and brothers
I miss those times and my brothers too
These days with them are distant and few
They're married now and live their own lives
Entertaining grandkids and their loving wives
Our communication lacks, and we don't talk
Each brother feels it's the other's fault
One day we will regret the separation, I'm sure
Bad blood among brothers only time can cure
No one realizes the mistakes they make
And as you grow older, it may be too late
I lost my youngest brother to the BIG "C."
Many years later, it still bothers me
He was so young and still in his prime
Lots of life left at age thirty-nine
So as time goes by, some thoughts fade away
As my hair thins and turns to gray
My eyesights blurry, and my hearing is gone
My time is spent old and alone
The ending of my story will be like this
The good times with my brothers I surely miss.
By, Lpickard
Copyright © William Pickard | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment