I miss your smile,
your laughter,
the chuckle you had,
the way your whole body
colluded with the laugh.
I miss your step,
the way you walked,
the soft spoken talk,
the humour, the dry jokes,
that I miss deeply,
the memory chokes.
I miss your look,
that gaze,
the big eyed stare,
that look
that seemed to say:
I care.
I miss you
for not being here,
miss your presence
in a room,
the chair vacant
where you once sat,
the photographs of you
looking back,
saying nothing,
looking far away,
nothing more to say.
I miss the whole of you,
not just bits and pieces,
not just this or that,
not just your tee shirts
or black hat.
I miss you
and wait for answers
that may never come,
never find the real reason why
someone ****** up
or why you had to die.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
I miss your smile,
your laughter,
the chuckle you had,
the way your whole body
colluded with the laugh.
I miss your step,
the way you walked,
the soft spoken talk,
the humour, the dry jokes,
that I miss deeply,
the memory chokes.
I miss your look,
that gaze,
the big eyed stare,
that look
that seemed to say:
I care.
I miss you
for not being here,
miss your presence
in a room,
the chair vacant
where you once sat,
the photographs of you
looking back,
saying nothing,
looking far away,
nothing more to say.
I miss the whole of you,
not just bits and pieces,
not just this or that,
not just your tee shirts
or black hat.
I miss you
and wait for answers
that may never come,
never find the real reason why
someone ****** up
or why you had to die.
A FATHER TALKS TO HIS DEAD SON.
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