Saturday Nights and Sunday MorningsA Poem by Robert LunaTrying something a little different. I hope you enjoy
Quarter til three a.m.
The phone rings My hello answered with tears and a voice saying Its me dad, Stephen Ive messed up really bad took all the money you had about to board a bus to L.A. Ive just got to get away I cant face my mistakes Didnt want to call But it just felt wrong not to at least say goodbye and tell you what was going on Marcys pregnant, she due in June I tried to get her to leave too wanted to take care of her especially with the baby on the way I thought we would always be together Said she couldnt wouldnt didnt want to be with me after I got kicked out of school They found drugs in my locker I wanted to tell you but I was too ashamed Couldnt bring myself to see the hurt in your eyes and to know I was to blame Choking back my own tears Trying to find the words to say A lump resting in my throat I speak Stephen please dont go We can face this together No matter what youve done You are still my son and I love you Come home so we can talk We can work this all out If you leave youll never know Just come home son If you run now youll be running the rest of your life But dad I feel so lost I just dont know if youll see me the same Look at all Ive done How could I ever face you again Son I love you Just come home You will always be my son No matter what youve done Please just come home Alright dad Ill come home Good, see you soon Phone hangs up Silence on the other end Wrong number it would seem but To the right man I think to myself I guess I wouldve made a good dad © 2008 Robert LunaAuthor's Note
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Added on March 12, 2008AuthorRobert LunaSomewhere between here and thereAboutMy name is Robert. I write therefore I feel I am. My words come from my heart, soul, and mind. I write what I feel and see, life is my inspiration. Life itself is art in its purest form. There is noth.. more..Writing
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