Poems About Fatherhood Published by Members Recently Online
#fatherhood
Poems about fatherhood published by members recently online.
A Bad Memory
One of my worst memories
is of standing in the hall
at six or seven years old
and hearing my father upstairs knock about
my older sibling,
the other behind me and letting me know
as I wept: ‘you should talk to him,
you’re his favourite. You could stop this happening.’
And I don’t have much to say beyond that
apart from I hope that it’s not just shared
in self-pity, but maybe so I’ll know if it’s normal, or if I could have stopped it happening.
is of standing in the hall
at six or seven years old
and hearing my father upstairs knock about
my older sibling,
the other behind me and letting me know
as I wept: ‘you should talk to him,
you’re his favourite. You could stop this happening.’
And I don’t have much to say beyond that
apart from I hope that it’s not just shared
in self-pity, but maybe so I’ll know if it’s normal, or if I could have stopped it happening.
#childhood
#abuse
#memories #fatherhood
#memories #fatherhood
121 reads
2 Comments
A Bad Memory
One of my worst memories
is of standing in the hall
at six or seven years old
and hearing my father upstairs knock about
my older sibling,
the other behind me and letting me know
as I wept: ‘you should talk to him,
you’re his favourite. You could stop this happening.’
And I don’t have much to say beyond that
apart from I hope that it’s not just shared
in self-pity, but maybe so I’ll know if it’s normal, or if I could have stopped it happening.
is of standing in the hall
at six or seven years old
and hearing my father upstairs knock about
my older sibling,
the other behind me and letting me know
as I wept: ‘you should talk to him,
you’re his favourite. You could stop this happening.’
And I don’t have much to say beyond that
apart from I hope that it’s not just shared
in self-pity, but maybe so I’ll know if it’s normal, or if I could have stopped it happening.
#childhood
#abuse
#memories #fatherhood
#memories #fatherhood
121 reads
2 Comments
A Bad Memory
One of my worst memories
is of standing in the hall
at six or seven years old
and hearing my father upstairs knock about
my older sibling,
the other behind me and letting me know
as I wept: ‘you should talk to him,
you’re his favourite. You could stop this happening.’
And I don’t have much to say beyond that
apart from I hope that it’s not just shared
in self-pity, but maybe so I’ll know if it’s normal, or if I could have stopped it happening.
is of standing in the hall
at six or seven years old
and hearing my father upstairs knock about
my older sibling,
the other behind me and letting me know
as I wept: ‘you should talk to him,
you’re his favourite. You could stop this happening.’
And I don’t have much to say beyond that
apart from I hope that it’s not just shared
in self-pity, but maybe so I’ll know if it’s normal, or if I could have stopped it happening.
#childhood
#abuse
#memories #fatherhood
#memories #fatherhood
121 reads
2 Comments
A Bad Memory
One of my worst memories
is of standing in the hall
at six or seven years old
and hearing my father upstairs knock about
my older sibling,
the other behind me and letting me know
as I wept: ‘you should talk to him,
you’re his favourite. You could stop this happening.’
And I don’t have much to say beyond that
apart from I hope that it’s not just shared
in self-pity, but maybe so I’ll know if it’s normal, or if I could have stopped it happening.
is of standing in the hall
at six or seven years old
and hearing my father upstairs knock about
my older sibling,
the other behind me and letting me know
as I wept: ‘you should talk to him,
you’re his favourite. You could stop this happening.’
And I don’t have much to say beyond that
apart from I hope that it’s not just shared
in self-pity, but maybe so I’ll know if it’s normal, or if I could have stopped it happening.
#childhood
#abuse
#memories #fatherhood
#memories #fatherhood
121 reads
2 Comments
Fathers and Sons: Love Redux
My dad wasn't wordy
I can't remember affection
He never told me he loved me
If he did, I don't remember it
Strong silent type he was
I grew up quiet
Till I started to speak more
Then everyone wished I'd shut the fuck up
My mom told me my dad loved us very much
I wanted to hear it from him
On my wedding day he said it
Collectively in a toast he pronounced his love grandly
I always wanted more from him
I wanted his knowledge, his craft
He's gone 20 years now
I'm still trying ......
I can't remember affection
He never told me he loved me
If he did, I don't remember it
Strong silent type he was
I grew up quiet
Till I started to speak more
Then everyone wished I'd shut the fuck up
My mom told me my dad loved us very much
I wanted to hear it from him
On my wedding day he said it
Collectively in a toast he pronounced his love grandly
I always wanted more from him
I wanted his knowledge, his craft
He's gone 20 years now
I'm still trying ......
#fatherhood
573 reads
19 Comments
Mr. Ford Crosses the Bridge - May 6th
Dear Mr. Ford,
I’m sorry that I only met you in your last days
When you were ready to cross that bridge
I was told you were a hardworking,
Wonderful, caring family man
And that you needed some assistance
When your grandson asked if I could help
I was glad because you raised a good man
It was only a small gesture but seeing you there
On your death bed was heartbreaking
I had never seen the eyes of a man
Stare into my soul like that
I don’t know the pain you must have been in
But you were fading, slowly, fading ...
I’m sorry that I only met you in your last days
When you were ready to cross that bridge
I was told you were a hardworking,
Wonderful, caring family man
And that you needed some assistance
When your grandson asked if I could help
I was glad because you raised a good man
It was only a small gesture but seeing you there
On your death bed was heartbreaking
I had never seen the eyes of a man
Stare into my soul like that
I don’t know the pain you must have been in
But you were fading, slowly, fading ...
#love
#family
#death #fatherhood
#death #fatherhood
369 reads
8 Comments
Mr. Ford Crosses the Bridge - May 6th
Dear Mr. Ford,
I’m sorry that I only met you in your last days
When you were ready to cross that bridge
I was told you were a hardworking,
Wonderful, caring family man
And that you needed some assistance
When your grandson asked if I could help
I was glad because you raised a good man
It was only a small gesture but seeing you there
On your death bed was heartbreaking
I had never seen the eyes of a man
Stare into my soul like that
I don’t know the pain you must have been in
But you were fading, slowly, fading ...
I’m sorry that I only met you in your last days
When you were ready to cross that bridge
I was told you were a hardworking,
Wonderful, caring family man
And that you needed some assistance
When your grandson asked if I could help
I was glad because you raised a good man
It was only a small gesture but seeing you there
On your death bed was heartbreaking
I had never seen the eyes of a man
Stare into my soul like that
I don’t know the pain you must have been in
But you were fading, slowly, fading ...
#love
#family
#death #fatherhood
#death #fatherhood
369 reads
8 Comments
Mr. Ford Crosses the Bridge - May 6th
Dear Mr. Ford,
I’m sorry that I only met you in your last days
When you were ready to cross that bridge
I was told you were a hardworking,
Wonderful, caring family man
And that you needed some assistance
When your grandson asked if I could help
I was glad because you raised a good man
It was only a small gesture but seeing you there
On your death bed was heartbreaking
I had never seen the eyes of a man
Stare into my soul like that
I don’t know the pain you must have been in
But you were fading, slowly, fading ...
I’m sorry that I only met you in your last days
When you were ready to cross that bridge
I was told you were a hardworking,
Wonderful, caring family man
And that you needed some assistance
When your grandson asked if I could help
I was glad because you raised a good man
It was only a small gesture but seeing you there
On your death bed was heartbreaking
I had never seen the eyes of a man
Stare into my soul like that
I don’t know the pain you must have been in
But you were fading, slowly, fading ...
#love
#family
#death #fatherhood
#death #fatherhood
369 reads
8 Comments
Mr. Ford Crosses the Bridge - May 6th
Dear Mr. Ford,
I’m sorry that I only met you in your last days
When you were ready to cross that bridge
I was told you were a hardworking,
Wonderful, caring family man
And that you needed some assistance
When your grandson asked if I could help
I was glad because you raised a good man
It was only a small gesture but seeing you there
On your death bed was heartbreaking
I had never seen the eyes of a man
Stare into my soul like that
I don’t know the pain you must have been in
But you were fading, slowly, fading ...
I’m sorry that I only met you in your last days
When you were ready to cross that bridge
I was told you were a hardworking,
Wonderful, caring family man
And that you needed some assistance
When your grandson asked if I could help
I was glad because you raised a good man
It was only a small gesture but seeing you there
On your death bed was heartbreaking
I had never seen the eyes of a man
Stare into my soul like that
I don’t know the pain you must have been in
But you were fading, slowly, fading ...
#love
#family
#death #fatherhood
#death #fatherhood
369 reads
8 Comments
Rockhollow Series: Teammate
Title: Teammate
Seventeen of Thirty
Unique Words: One Hundred and Seventy-Eight
#NaPoWriMo19
There's a stunning scene above me today,
the sky painter has been busying himself with the intricacies of detail.
He allows the Sun to delicately pass
through an abandon of heavy cloud.
It is as if the edges of thickness are fringed for her arrival
- light rests upon their layers, dyeing lulls of languid grey in intense golden hues.
He keeps her, our shared Sun, shielded
enough that my green eyes can admire her -
as if she was...
Seventeen of Thirty
Unique Words: One Hundred and Seventy-Eight
#NaPoWriMo19
There's a stunning scene above me today,
the sky painter has been busying himself with the intricacies of detail.
He allows the Sun to delicately pass
through an abandon of heavy cloud.
It is as if the edges of thickness are fringed for her arrival
- light rests upon their layers, dyeing lulls of languid grey in intense golden hues.
He keeps her, our shared Sun, shielded
enough that my green eyes can admire her -
as if she was...
#love
#nature
#NaPoWriMo2019 #fatherhood
#NaPoWriMo2019 #fatherhood
449 reads
2 Comments
Rockhollow Series: Teammate
Title: Teammate
Seventeen of Thirty
Unique Words: One Hundred and Seventy-Eight
#NaPoWriMo19
There's a stunning scene above me today,
the sky painter has been busying himself with the intricacies of detail.
He allows the Sun to delicately pass
through an abandon of heavy cloud.
It is as if the edges of thickness are fringed for her arrival
- light rests upon their layers, dyeing lulls of languid grey in intense golden hues.
He keeps her, our shared Sun, shielded
enough that my green eyes can admire her -
as if she was...
Seventeen of Thirty
Unique Words: One Hundred and Seventy-Eight
#NaPoWriMo19
There's a stunning scene above me today,
the sky painter has been busying himself with the intricacies of detail.
He allows the Sun to delicately pass
through an abandon of heavy cloud.
It is as if the edges of thickness are fringed for her arrival
- light rests upon their layers, dyeing lulls of languid grey in intense golden hues.
He keeps her, our shared Sun, shielded
enough that my green eyes can admire her -
as if she was...
#love
#nature
#NaPoWriMo2019 #fatherhood
#NaPoWriMo2019 #fatherhood
449 reads
2 Comments
Rockhollow Series: Teammate
Title: Teammate
Seventeen of Thirty
Unique Words: One Hundred and Seventy-Eight
#NaPoWriMo19
There's a stunning scene above me today,
the sky painter has been busying himself with the intricacies of detail.
He allows the Sun to delicately pass
through an abandon of heavy cloud.
It is as if the edges of thickness are fringed for her arrival
- light rests upon their layers, dyeing lulls of languid grey in intense golden hues.
He keeps her, our shared Sun, shielded
enough that my green eyes can admire her -
as if she was...
Seventeen of Thirty
Unique Words: One Hundred and Seventy-Eight
#NaPoWriMo19
There's a stunning scene above me today,
the sky painter has been busying himself with the intricacies of detail.
He allows the Sun to delicately pass
through an abandon of heavy cloud.
It is as if the edges of thickness are fringed for her arrival
- light rests upon their layers, dyeing lulls of languid grey in intense golden hues.
He keeps her, our shared Sun, shielded
enough that my green eyes can admire her -
as if she was...
#love
#nature
#NaPoWriMo2019 #fatherhood
#NaPoWriMo2019 #fatherhood
449 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Fatherhood Published by Members Recently Online