I Am A Poet
My Dad and I only knew each other briefly. He was a very mysterious man to me, coming and going
in my young life. He was not exactly a loving Dad when he was around the house, quiet and
reserved in his thoughts. I did not find out the real truths about my Dad until I was in my early
twenties. My mother kept the dark secrets from me and my siblings for as long as she could. Then
one day she opened Pandora's box and his life of absence from his family was revealed. Even
though he was who he was (a pale imitation of a John Dillinger), the little boy in this poem missed
him dearly. Put out alone in the world without a father until one day he was rescued from the bottom
of the hill by an Angel.
I remember when I had dreams
Of holding my father's hand as
We walked through depths of
Feelings for each other.
He would paint pictures of life for
Us in bright colors and pastels
That he knew would fade in time.
He knew his lifestyle was jaded,
As he laid his gun holster across
The chair and emptied the bullets
So I could run and play cops
And robbers. Pow! Pow! Pow!
But like the sand in an hour glass,
Time ran out for the both of us.
He watched as I blew out the candles
On my birthday cake before they
Swept him up and took him away in
Handcuffs. I cried, alone and confused.
I guess he knew that
I would have to walk tall now
Without him in my life.
I cried tears of loneliness for my
Dad and hoped to see him again.
We wrote to each other in solitude
And I felt the distance of the bars
Between our letters, just a little
Boy with pain in his heart for his Dad
And a crumpled faded picture held
Lightly in his little hand.
Daddy, why did you do this to me?
Why did you leave your little boy -
A boy who needed so much to learn
How to toss and catch the ball with
Your proud calls from the sidelines,
"That's my boy! Yes, the one with the
Beautiful green eyes and cheeky look.
That's my boy and I love him so."
© Copyright 2010 by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved
in my young life. He was not exactly a loving Dad when he was around the house, quiet and
reserved in his thoughts. I did not find out the real truths about my Dad until I was in my early
twenties. My mother kept the dark secrets from me and my siblings for as long as she could. Then
one day she opened Pandora's box and his life of absence from his family was revealed. Even
though he was who he was (a pale imitation of a John Dillinger), the little boy in this poem missed
him dearly. Put out alone in the world without a father until one day he was rescued from the bottom
of the hill by an Angel.
I remember when I had dreams
Of holding my father's hand as
We walked through depths of
Feelings for each other.
He would paint pictures of life for
Us in bright colors and pastels
That he knew would fade in time.
He knew his lifestyle was jaded,
As he laid his gun holster across
The chair and emptied the bullets
So I could run and play cops
And robbers. Pow! Pow! Pow!
But like the sand in an hour glass,
Time ran out for the both of us.
He watched as I blew out the candles
On my birthday cake before they
Swept him up and took him away in
Handcuffs. I cried, alone and confused.
I guess he knew that
I would have to walk tall now
Without him in my life.
I cried tears of loneliness for my
Dad and hoped to see him again.
We wrote to each other in solitude
And I felt the distance of the bars
Between our letters, just a little
Boy with pain in his heart for his Dad
And a crumpled faded picture held
Lightly in his little hand.
Daddy, why did you do this to me?
Why did you leave your little boy -
A boy who needed so much to learn
How to toss and catch the ball with
Your proud calls from the sidelines,
"That's my boy! Yes, the one with the
Beautiful green eyes and cheeky look.
That's my boy and I love him so."
© Copyright 2010 by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved
By:
deleted
Age:
26-30
