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A Poem by Graham Davies

A piece about my father This is meant to be read in a slam poetry/spoken word style.

Now, I find no pleasure in this I say.
My father died in pain,
A willing victim of disease.

You'll never know self hatred, self deprecation or even self loathing more than when you sleep through a person's passing.

It's been five months and I've not yet faced my fear, a fear of admitting that I know I will never be happy, never smile, never just cut loose from these chains that bind me.

No, I am afraid my dear that I 'm stuck here like concrete, because I will never feel the warm embrace of my fathers arms, or hear his voice on the wind.

Now I know that I'm not special and I'm no where near perfect, but in my mind I go through this alone,
This is a Goliath so I must be David.

I throw back pills from doctors and well wishes from family like they were candies,
Yet I no longer feel the sugar rush I once got from these...
Just the sickening taste of aspartame lodged in my throat for all to see.

This feeling of a Great Depression on my body, is like nothing I've felt before.

But soon I shall prevail.
I am stronger than this, I will find my self triumphant, atop the pile of all the feelings in my skull.
But the path I take towards that mountain, will be marked by memories I need to pass, thoughts that want to nail me in place,
I'll arm my self with blinkers & Clench my fist around a claw hammer,
Determined to unroot myself

De mortius nil nisi bonum, and if you don't know what that means, it's Latin for: "Of the dead, say nothing but good"

And yet I started this with venom, against a man who can no longer defend himself from my words, but finished with regret.

But if you ever go through what I have and not be angry at being left behind....

You'll understand the selection of my words.