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Memories Of Father

Love of a father of his child and mother
hard earned wages stuck in paper pages
He toiled they soiled he loved gave warmth
they thought was his duty

but as years passed by
rains came there was no umbrella
he bent over his young ones
covered them with his coat
let himself remain in a wet moat
still none realized the doings in silence
of that wise lovely man

One day the kids woke
found the house unusually cold
there was no fire lit no coal no smoke
where did father go heaven knows
he never woke

then as ages passed
all aghast they remember him daily to this day
why and where did father go away none could say
he was incinerated straight away

Glory was interred with his bones all felt sorry
pop went off all alone to the machinations of this world

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
This is a poem worthy of a read its not my pops but today's pops
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content


no one appreciates the well until it runs dry. There are people in one's life, that are such a constant, that you never think about who they are and what they do for you until they are no longer there. So say you love them and let them know, that you will be sorry when they go. Nice job, Lovedly. One that I made sense of right away. ~ Geez.

It seems that the days and hours that people
are available for chatroom are staggered and
not a good match for most everyone. How about
if everyone just shows up at the door, whenever
they have a few free minutes?


EVEN you and me

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