I’m slipping on the dying moss,
The stones that still are resting
On your retrospective eyelids,
Will replace the shiny pennies
That the junked up ferry-man
Refused to take.
I don’t want to jump these hurdles
While your sweaty hand
Is slipping from my grasp.
Even in your death you drink it down,
Accelerate the burning
With the evils sliding through you on the
Inside
Break my heart why don’t you,
I want a Dad who’ll be right there
Forever.
Although you’re still alive,
I just can’t see it through the alloy
That seems welded to your fingertips.
The amber liquid forces hearts apart.
Well one day I can promise you,
Your beers will still be there but I’ll be
Gone.
You won’t be far behind me,
Still I guarantee we’re heading different
Ways,
one more hug, I swear I’ll let you
Go
Author notes
About my alcaholic Dad, duh
A contest entry
- PIF - Overnight Quickie - Picture Prompt by Mad Moon.
525 points, ended August 29, 2007, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
So profoundly sad, yet openly honest. my friend. Filled with raw emotion, one can 'feel' each and every word! Thanks for the entry, and Good Luck!
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wow
... just... wow
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