The slam of the door, your feet up the stairs,

Running your fingers through your little grey hairs

Quiet, humble, and attentive you were,

A gentleman precisely, a very kind sir


Important or not, you were there

To lend a helping hand, or to simply show you cared

We had our share of arguments, but it was always the same score;

0-1, and I would say no more


Vanilla ice cream, a baseball cap

The smell of the girl, the chair where you sat

The New Yorker, Car and Driver magazines

The clumsy way you laughed, the way you smiled at me


A husband, to one woman with you, her heart was complete

A teacher, to those who wanted your lessons to learn, and to keep

A father, to two girls who more or less looked the same

Who brought you happiness, but slightly some pain


Most of all, that wasn't the end

You were more than a dad

But to me, a friend

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