Father, stand before me in your fine Italian suit
Black and silver pinstripes, leather briefcase, wingtip shoes
Blue eyes always tired, dark stripes beneath your eyes
You sit up at the table, studying others crimes
I followed you to court that day, sat in the back again
The man who you defended was as dark and guilty as sin
But you stuck by your guns all throughout the trial
And at the end I saw the jury, saw your face; it smiled
You’d had another win, they said, and it made front page news
I thought about it long and hard that Sunday in the pews
I considered all the hours spent at the office, not at home
I wondered if you missed me when at midnight I would roam
I walked the streets in darkness, often in the pouring rain
And wondered in my heart if it was just myself to blame
Was I so bad a daughter that you could not be my dad?
Or was I just jealous, green with envy, of the fathers others had?
I never saw you kiss my mom, I never saw you hug
But at night you whispered “I love you, my darling lady bug.”
I remember doing algebra at the table by your side
But you just worked your case books as moonlight pulled the tide
You’d given us a mansion that sat high up on the bluffs
But the many hours you stayed away, we never felt your love
The telephone rang one morning and I rushed into the hall
Tears sprang from my sad, sad eyes as I listened to the call
It was not your lawyer friend from court, the one I always knew
It was the man down at the morgue; he called to spread the news
This morning you never got to work, but on your desk they found
A memo signed by the killer himself: “Look close, I’ll be around.”
You worked so hard to get him off, but you knew secrets that would kill
I drop to my knees on the fireplace hearth as I wrestled out your will
Your lawyer friend found me crying on your grave overlooking the bay
He told me of this memo and how it had come one day too late
There’s so many things I wish I’d said, to you my father, dear
But the best I can do is put a rose on your grave . . .
and pray that you can hear.
Author notes
Title prompt: The Memo Came Late
A contest entry
- Titles, Pictures, Word bank, Story, and Quotes. Come look! by Missa.
650 points, ended January 1, 2009, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - all the prewrites you want (theres a catch) by serenity silvermoon.
400 points, ended January 7, 2009, 290 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Bored Enter!!!!! Need to Read Something!!!!! by goingnowherefast.
700 points, ended January 8, 2009, 126 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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wow this made me cry i have to go to court today to try and get my baby back i am insent they tryed to say because i am a slow learner that i couldnt take care of my baby there was nothing a didnt like about this poem it was all great and very heart felt it is a winner im surprised you didnt win the other contest thank you for sharing this piece
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dramatic
well done.. you captured the emotion of the child, through their eyes... I often wonder what my children see. You made me think... Just a short suggestion, you didn't really start rhyming (I love rhyming, that's all I do)... until about the 4th line. If you starteed the rhyming pattern from the start you won't throw your reader off who instinctively looks for a rhyming pattern. If you change up on them, tey get distracted and miss the words. imho... nice work - sounds like a novel in the works... - Kevin
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An incredible story.
It compels alot of different feeling. I love a good twist at the end. This had it. When you revise it, watch your meter. Say it out loud. If it doesn't roll off your tongue it won't others. Some forced rhyme places to fix. Still It was a joy to read.
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i love this! good luck!
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Wow!! This is really amazing!! I love it! This is so sad, and yet so poetically beautiful! The rhyme wasn't noticable at all. The story was absolutely breath taking.. I hope dearly this isn't personal. Wonderful write. Thanks for entering and welcome to the finalist.
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Thank you!! No, this poem is not personal at all, although many of the emotions in it are. I had an abusive father that never really considered me his little girl and I can remember wondering if I wasn't good enough for him to just be my "dad." This was a story that warned others who DID love their families to spend more time at home and less at the office; the office can find a new employee in a week, but the family left behind will have that loss in their lives forever. Thanks for the input.
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