The Gift

My father passed this week. I'm the man of the house

No time to be weak. I'm the man. She's his spouse

And my mother so I let her know I love her

That tumor was a lethal weapon like Danny Glover

But I don't struggle with the weight. I just lift

Tomorrow's not promised and the present is a gift

So I pray and pray for sunnier days

Life brings Joy and Pain like Frankie and Maze

We argued but that's because I was the oldest

He was there when I became the coldest

He was my hero. I just hope he knows it

And he still will be after the casket closes

The last poem I wrote was called "Hard Times"

He was passing on but he was far from dying

I know his soul lives in heaven so I am grateful

And yes, this situation could make me hateful

But pain can either make us bitter or better

And when's the last time you saw a weighed down feather

Fly anywhere? Anywhere at all?

A weighed down feather can't even fall

So I will let this make me a better man

And I know it's not for me to understand

So I won't try, I'll just pray and lift this weight

Because tomorrow's not promised and the present is great

Litera scripta manet. - Unknown