FatherA Poem by Your Tasty Field AdvisorI close my eyes The day has ended
Time to move on
Time to fall into that familiar world
That world within and through that door
That door within all of our minds…
In a field of grass where every soft gust of wind is heard like a whisper in the ear
I’m clad in clothes I wore years before I knew the real truth of the world
The sky is rolling with the waves of distant clouds that make the world infinite
The ground below me is soft and wet with the new morning dew
As the sun out on the horizon rises with ease and luxury
In front of me, my father holds out his hand to go across the meadow
He looks his usual, goatee, long brown hair, hazel eyes and a soft yet hard voice
He wants me to come with him so he can show me the other side of that meadow
That meadow, so far away, so vast that the grass was exposed to the glorious sun
And so like any faithful son would do, I took his hand and followed
I walked with him by my side for what seemed to be four blurry years
Ups and downs all with such strongly inflicting memories that come to me so well
And, yet, I walk still with him the sun light slowly fading without notice
Then I looked at my father to see if he could help me he was no where to be seen
Where had he gone
I was alone on a desolate plane with no grass to spurt up and tell me everything is ok
The sun that was so bright upon my back had faded away with the soft wind
The ground below my feet were infested with dry dirt
The dirt was covered with black bugs that seem to be eating away at my flesh
They are to take me away from everything I knew like my father and I will vanish
… As I bolt up-right in my bed
I remember that my father
That kind faced man
Had really vanished from my life
Replaced by the stinging memories
Memories that I wish to escape for all time
Replaced by that demon woman wife
That wife he gave me up to be with
That wife that had ate away my heart.
© 2008 Your Tasty Field Advisor
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Added on June 6, 2008AuthorYour Tasty Field AdvisorAboutdad, if you read this, you should know the facts before you start assuming that all the dark poems are about you. just saying that you arent always my muse to write thoes dark poems about. so, dont .. more..Writing
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