Thursday, February 23, 2012

A Man I Used to Know

I wrote this poem when I was twelve years old (November 1998):

A Man I Used to Know

A man I used to know died a year ago.
To me he was a hero; a hero that you'll never know.

He'll never go over your homework with you, or teach you right from wrong.
You'll never hear his scratchy voice sing along to Hank Williams songs.

Never again will he say prayers before bed with you each night.
He'll never show you the north star or explain why it shines so bright.

Never again will you laugh at his jokes, 'cause he's not here to tell them.
Never again will he send my mom flowers.  Never again will she smell them.

You'll never hear his stories from when he was in the Navy.
The only think you'll see are the pictures that he gave me.

The man I used to know who died a year ago,
was a man no other than my father--my father, my hero.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Fourteen years later this poem is still true.  Daddy will always be my hero, though he is a fading memory of a man I used to know...

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