I can't think of a name
Dear father,
I hope that you know,
You've got a beautiful granddaughter,
I'll tell her all about you as she grows,
And I wish you could be here to help me find the words to say,
When I have to explain to her why the F*** grandpa is NOT here today,
I hope she never hears how you put your selfish finger on the trigger,
As her vast expanding mind is growing and getting bigger,
She's already curious to know why daddy's eyes are puffy and red,
When he's looking at your picture and imagines a hole in your head,
Or the piece of your skull daddy seen on the ground,
Twenty feet away from where they say your body was found,
The spots of blood spattered on the pile of leaves,
It's truly a shame...all the wonderful memories I had...
Replaced by images like these...
God, that was so long ago but the wounds are still fresh,
There's really nothing I can do,
No bandaid can help daddy's wound heal,
I can just strive and try to decipher what's fiction and what's real,
And what kills me most is not what I go through,
It's that I can't hide it forever...
And one day your actions are going to taint her too.....
I hope that you know,
You've got a beautiful granddaughter,
I'll tell her all about you as she grows,
And I wish you could be here to help me find the words to say,
When I have to explain to her why the F*** grandpa is NOT here today,
I hope she never hears how you put your selfish finger on the trigger,
As her vast expanding mind is growing and getting bigger,
She's already curious to know why daddy's eyes are puffy and red,
When he's looking at your picture and imagines a hole in your head,
Or the piece of your skull daddy seen on the ground,
Twenty feet away from where they say your body was found,
The spots of blood spattered on the pile of leaves,
It's truly a shame...all the wonderful memories I had...
Replaced by images like these...
God, that was so long ago but the wounds are still fresh,
There's really nothing I can do,
No bandaid can help daddy's wound heal,
I can just strive and try to decipher what's fiction and what's real,
And what kills me most is not what I go through,
It's that I can't hide it forever...
And one day your actions are going to taint her too.....
This Poems Story
Edited for little eyes..
Public Collections Containing This Poem
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Overflow
PoetJeremy Cochrane
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Dance with the inevitable
PoetJeremy Cochrane
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