Kenneth Wayne

This poem is about my father, who I've lived with my whole life, but yet I still feel like I don't know him.

Strong and stubborn but loving and fragile.

The showing of your thoughts and emotions is clearly a daily battle.

 

Apparently you drove the world crazy back in '69.

But so few storeis I've heard from you, mysterious father of mine.

 

A hard man raised you, and I know it must've been tough.

But silently yet steadily, my father has always shown me love.

 

A crazy past with a content present has left much room for wonder.

I know that now your youth's storm has passed, but I know you were once wild as thunder.

 

A certain humor you possess gives me a few hints of your past.

But I can't fully tell who you really are and were because you end conversations so fast.

 

Father, you're wonderful, though you've always been so vague.

I've been immensely blessed to have had you for all of my days.

 

I just wish you'd spare me the mystery, and tell me a bit more.

Because until I fully know you, a part of me will be empty and sore.