Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings

Trying 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
�It�s me dad, Stephen�
I�ve messed up really bad
took all the money you had
about to board a bus to L.A.
I�ve just got to get away
I can�t face my mistakes
Didn�t want to call
But it just felt wrong
not to at least say goodbye
and tell you what was going on

Marcy�s 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 couldn�t
wouldn�t
didn�t 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
Couldn�t 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 don�t go
We can face this together
No matter what you�ve 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 you�ll never know
Just come home son
If you run now
you�ll be running the rest of your life

But dad I feel so lost
I just don�t know if you�ll see me the same
Look at all I�ve done
How could I ever face you again

Son I love you
Just come home
You will always be my son
No matter what you�ve done
Please just come home

Alright dad I�ll 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 would�ve made a good dad

Author's Note

Trying something a little different. I hope you enjoy

Reviews

[[untitled]]

Wow, this poem is great! This could make an awesome story, too. I liked the way you put the dialogue in the poem and actually made the piece more interesting. The tittle really attrcted me, just so you know. I realized the poem was way better than it, though. The content flows really well. I can see it all happening right in front of me. Pretty sad story. You tricked me, I actually thought he was the real father, a good writer does that. I really liked this poem a lot. Just letting you know, I'm adding it to my library.

[Natalie C]

Bravo Robert, this was stunningly beautiful. You really drew me in from the beginning. The first thought that came to mind was an actual call then whilst I read further, I almost got the feeling that it was a call to God (don't ask me why though) but oh wow, I never saw that ending coming.

You are such a brilliant writer my friend, whom always keeps us entertained with your original and innovative ways of writing. Love the fact that you are always willing to step out of the box and try something new.

As all your pieces, this was a pleasure to read and I feel very honored that you shared this magnificent piece with me.

[Emily B]

It wasn't the wrong number at all. Jayne Anne Saporito has a work with a similar idea. We all need someone to tell us that it's okay and come on home. This is beautiful.

[Candle in the wind]

Hey how do you do this? its sheer magic.Its great that Stephen connected to the right "wrong number" but just hope that the real music he faces on returning won't be jarring notes!