i wanted to write a poem for my father
and so i searched for such apprasions from before
yet i only found scattered homes and absent dreams
and i cannot deny my father was once not as whole as me
he tipped the glass to his lips until he his inners wasted away
suddenly i see how easy it is to write upon the mistakes of yesterday
but i cannot deny that he struggled against that glass of temptation
like adam and eve he took the fruit and was shunned from the garden
but he now leaves and starts a fresh
and seed by seed
i thank you father
for building a new garden for me