About the Poem
How can you live when the best part of you dies? Where do you draw strength when your sole source of strength is taken from you?
This poem explores the loss of my father and the impact it had on my life. Even now, 6 years later, I can't seem to grasp the straws together to make my life whole again. Every day I fight with an enemy I cannot see. The one thing my father never taught me how to do.
A Few Visitor Comments
There are More comments below the poem ...
|by Michael Anderson|
As soft winds sweep away the days
I look back on life through a haze.
Remember playgrounds, parks and friends,
In childlike gaze that never ends.
The laughter in a game of catch,
Shall memory ever attach...
To innocence in youthful eyes,
Catching the ball to Dad's surprise.
I recall my first bike, first wreck,
Who picked me up, said, "What the heck?"
Convinced me to give one more try,
While, knees skinned, I forgot to cry.
Just the joy knowing he was there,
Making him proud my only care.
There was nothing I couldn't do,
My heart held fast that to be true.
Though teenage years were kind of rough,
I sure wasn't too big or tough.
You taught me to defend what's right
And never back down from a fight.
So I learned the hard way to stand,
Still, with each lump, I found your hand.
Drawing from you an inner strength,
And stubborn pride of equal length.
But there the line of fate was drawn,
As though I blinked and you were gone.
I found myself facing the sun,
Not man, not boy, fatherless, one.
Eyes blinded by a void inside,
I could not live that you had died.
Alas finding it to be true,
I could do nothing without you.
Please, Dad, today just hear my call,
I'm sorry that I dropped the ball.
My life is wrecked, my knees are skinned,
My emotions undisciplined.
I can't get up although I try,
Please don't be upset if I cry.
Though I can't fight what I can't see,
Please, Dad, say you're still proud of me.