This is a story about my dead dad as a poem that he wrote me one night. I was really down one night and missed him a lot. The time we spent together was short, see…when I was only 12 years old, an evil person took my dad away from me. This evil person came into our family home (thank goodness that me and my brother were not at home) and shot my dad three times at point blank range, in the head, then the chest, and then in the stomach for no real reason at all. They did not taken anything (not money, jewelry, or tools). They just killed him to be killing him, I guess. The reason I’m telling you all this is one night, not to long ago, I was sitting around thinking about how much I miss my dad and what my life would have been like with him still around. For some reason I started to write something down, to be honest I really don’t remember writing anything at all but when I got done I looked at what I thought was going to be a bunch of doodles on the paper and to my surprise this is what I had wrote:
To my dearest friend,
l stood by your bed last night, I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying, you found it hard to sleep.
l spoke to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
“It’s me I haven’t left you I’m well, I’m fine, I’m here.”
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea.
You were thinking of the many times, your hands reached out to me.
I was with you at the shop today; your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels, I wish I could do more.
I was with you at my grave today, tend it with such care.
I want to reassure you, that I’m not laying there.
I walked with you towards the house as you fumbled for your keys.
I gently put my hand on you, I smiled and said it’s me.
You looked so very tired, and sink into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know, that I was standing there.
It’s possible for me, to be so near you every day.
To say to you with certainty, “I never went away.”
You sit there very quietly, and smiled. I think you knew
in the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is over, I smile and watch you yawning and say,
“goodnight” “God bless.” “I’ll see you in the morning.”
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I’ll rush across to greet you and we’ll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out then come home to me.
I hope that y ‘all enjoyed reading my dead dad’s poem that he wrote me the other day and if you all are anything like me you are more than likely wiping tears from your eyes too. Thanks for reading and share this…maybe it will help somebody out one day, I know it did for me.