deepundergroundpoetry.com
Daddy
I miss you Daddy, I really do.
You short old man that I wish I knew.
You died a year ago, today.
But it doesn't feel like it, not in any way.
Maybe because there is no stone.
No place for me to give a handful of flowers a home.
No place for me to say my good-byes.
Nowhere for me to finally cry.
Oh Daddy, I miss you.
And I wish, oh I wish that you knew.
The tears and pains that I haved cried.
Wondering, wondering, and wondering why--
Your other daughter, I share nine years between had no right to take you.
Take you away from me, my dear ole father I wish I knew.
She came you see, snatched the money from my hand.
And had your body burned, you poor ole man.
Your ashes she took, stole from me.
Took the carpet right from under my feet.
And now you are somewhere far away.
And I haven't seen you since that day. . .
That day that you said nothing to me.
But you see. . .
I said everything to you.
I only hope you knew, hope you knew.
I kept a picture of you and I.
From when I was maybe seven, eight or nine.
But we're together and we're happy.
And that is what I will have to cherish, those memories.
Unlike the other daughter of yours, that sister that I do not ever wish to know.
Because of this, her actions speak clearly and the kind of person she is-- It is obviously shown.
I have the memories we shared.
She has your ashes, otherwise she never really cared.
She took you away from me.
How, how can this still be?
Will you not haunt her dreams?
Make her wake screaming from her sleep?
You left before you got to meet your grandson.
The only one worth to mention.
Because the others probably don't know you.
Neither did I, but you know that I still want to.
That is the truth.
That I wish that I had known you.
And if you want to know, honestly--
I wish you had known me too.
But I love you, I really do.
Short, old man that I wish I knew.
I love you Daddy, through and through.
I have memories for me, memories that will go far.
My sister has your ashes, canned up and sitting in a jar.
I wonder if she knows you.
Do you, do you?
I wonder if she knows you, through your ashes that she stole from me.
Does she Daddy, does she?
I bet not as much as I do.
You wonderful, funny and grumpy little man that I wish I had really knew.
I love you Daddy, I really do.
I love you Daddy, through and through.
And Daddy, I really really miss you.
And this is just something Daddy, I wanted to write especially for you.
For my Dad, R.I.P. Donald Richard Burgess.
September 14th, 1953 - August 31st, 2012
You short old man that I wish I knew.
You died a year ago, today.
But it doesn't feel like it, not in any way.
Maybe because there is no stone.
No place for me to give a handful of flowers a home.
No place for me to say my good-byes.
Nowhere for me to finally cry.
Oh Daddy, I miss you.
And I wish, oh I wish that you knew.
The tears and pains that I haved cried.
Wondering, wondering, and wondering why--
Your other daughter, I share nine years between had no right to take you.
Take you away from me, my dear ole father I wish I knew.
She came you see, snatched the money from my hand.
And had your body burned, you poor ole man.
Your ashes she took, stole from me.
Took the carpet right from under my feet.
And now you are somewhere far away.
And I haven't seen you since that day. . .
That day that you said nothing to me.
But you see. . .
I said everything to you.
I only hope you knew, hope you knew.
I kept a picture of you and I.
From when I was maybe seven, eight or nine.
But we're together and we're happy.
And that is what I will have to cherish, those memories.
Unlike the other daughter of yours, that sister that I do not ever wish to know.
Because of this, her actions speak clearly and the kind of person she is-- It is obviously shown.
I have the memories we shared.
She has your ashes, otherwise she never really cared.
She took you away from me.
How, how can this still be?
Will you not haunt her dreams?
Make her wake screaming from her sleep?
You left before you got to meet your grandson.
The only one worth to mention.
Because the others probably don't know you.
Neither did I, but you know that I still want to.
That is the truth.
That I wish that I had known you.
And if you want to know, honestly--
I wish you had known me too.
But I love you, I really do.
Short, old man that I wish I knew.
I love you Daddy, through and through.
I have memories for me, memories that will go far.
My sister has your ashes, canned up and sitting in a jar.
I wonder if she knows you.
Do you, do you?
I wonder if she knows you, through your ashes that she stole from me.
Does she Daddy, does she?
I bet not as much as I do.
You wonderful, funny and grumpy little man that I wish I had really knew.
I love you Daddy, I really do.
I love you Daddy, through and through.
And Daddy, I really really miss you.
And this is just something Daddy, I wanted to write especially for you.
For my Dad, R.I.P. Donald Richard Burgess.
September 14th, 1953 - August 31st, 2012
Published 1st Sep 2013
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