July 16

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  • Death

    July 16

    He's a father I'll never know.
    I'll never fight with him
    during his hour-long lectures
    on how to be a lady.
    I'll never be embarrassed
    by the dad-o-lantern
    checking from the window
    to make sure I was home
    inside my "reasonable" curfew.
    And he won't go bald
    from all the hair
    I made him loose.
    In my fantasies
    I would share
    my passion for music
    with him.
    I would complain
    about my gutter balls
    as he would stack up
    his bowling trophies.
    I'd greet him at the door
    with a "Hi, Daddy!"
    no matter how old I got.
    He would never complain.

    But, he never comes:
    and his memory is wiped away
    by the years that bury
    his face.

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    dangedmanjr commented on July 16

    03-11-2009

    painful...deep sadness...well written, thank you

    Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

    Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.

    MarieElizabeth’s Poems (4)

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