Hey Dad, I love you.

Oh father promise me, you'll live,
if it should be that I die first,
don't ever starve yourself of life,
or

It is four years now since that awful call
And still I cannot stand up proud and tall
My mind crawling in darkness round
where

Trapped in memories of our yesteryears,
that are locked in archives in my mind,
I can’t advance while stalled in the

Grief

In the grip of grief, I suffer the pain I feel

It is so unreal, the hurt, a distasteful meal

That makes me weep,