Born in nineteen thirty five
To reside at "Tick Tock park"
A whole life marred by damaged lungs
Yet, gracious was his heart
Known to his friends as Ginger
This man of arduous health
He possessed an ever-cheery smile
Wit and intellect his wealth
Passionate was he for art
Racehorses, jazz, the Goons
And chrysanthemum had more value
Than mankind racing for the moon
With his water colour paintings
He tried to leave his mark
But alas his dreams were halted
For no mercy has the dark
Of the protagonist of this ode
I shall say only this
My father was a brilliant man
Who I shall always miss
Did you know,
They told you
That people were made of star-dust?
You reminded them you knew the composition
Of your molecules
Your carbon sitting in your bones like blue marrow
They reminded you of lotus moths
And the horseshoe crabs you found on your birthday
Cause you're the East Coast baby
With your West Coast dreams
And she's on the TV
Your China queen.
You are the sunrise
that illuminates the twisted roads ahead.
that seems to do what you didn’t want it to.
that sways precariously in the wind.
that stops, starts, stops, starts.
that dangles a little too far over the side of my cup.
that contains a solid stone under the façade.
that always ends with unanswered questions.
that looks glorious but doesn't stay for long.
that stains my pillow at night.
that flew off in the distance, yet to return.
Explanation: Second poem written for university. A metaphor poem about a friend of mine, which turned out to be far more negative than originally planned.