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A Daughter's Sorrow
I saw my daddy sound asleep,
A bottle forgotten at his feet.
Tenesse Whiskey, strong and cheap;
Yet I just stood with a thoughtful frown,
As mommy sat and weeped.
He woke up groggy,
Those blue eyes foggy,
Their vibrance beginning to seep.
I knelt down and brushed a tear,
Off his tired and worn out cheek.
Daddy, I pleaded, I need you here.
I grasped his face, so precious, so dear,
Full of an anger masking a fear.
I was invisible, his blue eyed twin,
Beat by a bottle of beer.
I begged him to speak, of kindness or doom.
I had forgotten his voice;
The echo, the boom.
My childhood wonder had plundered and succumbed,
To the reality of life,
And the pain that I knew.
His soul was lost to a bottle of whiskey,
So he sat in his misery, quiet and listening.
Over the years I told him the tales,
Of the good times we had when he was still Dad.
Soon I became wrinkly and brittle,
And his eyes became glassy with the weight of his failure.
In these bottles, his sorrows would drown;
And there they stayed,
Six feet down.
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This article has 13 comments.
I think that childhood is a precious, delicate thing, and these types of situations can leave imprints on people that last a life time.