My Father
A shadow walked beside the man I knew,
A heavy fog that blurred his gentle eyes.
The bottles and the powder stole the view
Of the father who could love without disguise.
Because he loved me—that I always knew,
Deep down beneath the wreckage and the pain.
He held my hand when sober days were true,
Before the storm would pull him back again.
He fought a war inside his broken mind,
A losing battle fought with desperate pills.
But in the quiet space he left behind,
I only want to look upon his hills.
And then the night the world went tearing loose,
When breath grew shallow right beside my bed.
I watched him slip away from life's abuse,
While frantic, helpless thoughts ran through my head.
I hold the silence where he used to breathe,
And wrap myself in guilt I shouldn't bear.
I ask the dark what I could interweave,
To save him from the ghosts hiding in there.
But love cannot outrun a poison's art,
And children cannot cure a sickness deep.
I keep his love tucked safely in my heart,
And let the blame fade softly into sleep.
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