I wish I had asked you to stop
Like mommy said I should
you were drinking a lot
if I could go back I would
I was 7 years old and didn’t see you enough
you wanted me to visit and you would buy me stuff

I was far too scared
to go over there
because mom told me it all
the drugs, drinks, and cheating
your downfall
and I’m still giving myself a beating
that I hardly saw you at all

I wish I hadn’t been so scared
I wish that I had been there
before you were gone for life
it just wasn’t right
of me to fear you
why wasn’t I near you?

and I’ll never forget when you were in rehab
it was Christmas, but overall sad
little did I know
you’d be gone 2 months from that time
little did I know
I’d be forever saying good bye
I remember your parents came by
and you bought me the doll I had asked for
I should have tried
to thank you more

we visited you in rehab
and I can’t remember why, but mom got mad
sitting at a circular table on green carpeted floor
we left as you tried to get the door
and you just wanted us to stay
and visit for the Christmas day
but mom took us away

and on from then
things rushed to the end
you got out of rehab
but didn’t get better
I wish that I had
encouraged you to get better

but I still stayed away
and I’ll never forget the day
neither my brother or I
wanted to stay
mom took us off and we said bye
and then I saw you really cry
and that’s never left me
because it was so hard to see

then 3 days before your death
I hadn’t seen you for a while
you looked like a mess
but mustered a smile
and you gave me a small stuffed bear with a big red heart
from valentines day
I guess I wasn’t smart
to not realize you would slip away
but we went to dinner one last time
I said goodbye hoping everything was fine

and then you gave mom a call
had written her a big check
like you knew this all
that you were dying a wreck

and when I heard the news
I had a friend over
and I didn’t believe it was true
because how could your life be over
daddy, I needed you
but you died in a hotel room
death drug induced
an early dark morning on a Tuesday
like the counting crows song where they say,
*“ It’s 4:30 A.M. on a Tuesday. It doesn’t get much worse than this in beds in little rooms in buildings in the middle of these lives which are completely meaningless. Help me stay awake, I’m falling ”