by J Meckes

Created on: April 29, 2009   Last Updated: August 03, 2009

The Homestead

It's another gray morning; it's early, about eight.
Being alone at this place, I just hate.
My fear is as always, it just won't let go
the fear is that, my daughter won't show.

She said she'd visit me every day.
Her schedule is busy, she lives far away.
I haven't seen her since I don't know when,
and today just loneliness visits again.

I was always there when she needed me!
Daddy let's play. Would you share some tea?
Let's go for a ride on your fast motor bike
and buy me some of that ice cream I like.

Let's go to the shore and play in the sand
or walk on the beach, hand in hand.
She loved cotton candy, hotdogs and root beer
but all that's gone, somehow I'm stuck here.

Not sure of the year or the day of the week
my mind so befuddled, sometimes I can't speak.
My daughter will visit me, just as she said
they'll all come and visit me at the Homestead.

It's another sad evening; it's late, about eight.
My daughter's not coming; I'm not going to wait.
This woman leans over and kisses my head
and helps me get up and get into my bed.

Who is this woman; she's a stranger to me
seems that I know her, but who could she be?
She's here every day, her eyes filled with sorrow
saying. . . .Good night Dad, I'll see you tomorrow.

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