Poured out and stowed from teenage years,
these pent-up, grief-filled tortured tears.
They're shed for you, most noble friend.
Dear father, these poor lines I've penned
with Ink, I've spilt for life you've lost,
by fate, so cruel, cut short, star-crossed.
You gave me life, then lost your own.
Launched out for land, unseen, unknown.
Moved on like mist across the lake,
dissolved like dew at dawn's daybreak.
Do you still live, my parent true?
Does heaven's face shine down on you?
Your son survives on slender hopes.
In darkest days, for light he gropes.
He craves one piddling, Christian crumb:
to meet you in the life to come!
-
Author:
Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 14th, 2025 09:32
- Comment from author about the poem: For my father, who died when I was 14. After all these years, the pain and sorrow still rips at my heart.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, arqios
Offline)
Comments4
A very touching and emotional write over the devastating loss of a parent, which still hurts, very nicely composed and expressed
Thank you.
You are very welcome
A sad poem that calls out for a father now gone. We all lose our fathers eventually but to lose one early is a trauma. Well written with good verse and rhyme this poem speaks to me.
Many thanks, Soren.
Now that’s a grieving poem if I ever did see one🙏🏻🕊Liked and Faved 🤩
Thank you, arqios.
You’re welcome Kevin 🙏🏻🕊️
I know my father is waiting for me with a pint of bitter and a symphony by Haydn playing for us.
Andy
Thanks, Andy
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