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Mar 2015
father flesh your vows were made
with certain good intent
better yet the brows you raised
could see no self dissent

strong, you were
a rock of sorts
which seldom moves an inch

long, you were
on life of course
life is but a cinch

oh so brave to walk the fire
the fire gone unkindled
a smothered flame to breathe again
once properly swindled

conscience plays a partial part
in stemming liability
but time you'll find will rob your mind
of valuable stability

it's a tell-tale sort of story
though no moral or no fable
and if you'll kindly pay the ransom-
the deed to my betrayal

we shall climb this rugged mountain
together we shall ascend
and once atop the sound will drop
"my father is my friend!"
Jason Cole
Written by
Jason Cole  49/M/Guntersville, AL
(49/M/Guntersville, AL)   
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