He stares all day out into space,
looking for she whom does not show.
A frightened look adorns his face,
Is something missing, he should know?
He is not sure, why or who
these strangers are who do converse.
He doesn't know quite what to do,
why is he here? Why have a nurse?
They look at him with loving eyes.
Smiling glances flow across.
What do they seek and what's more, Why?
He does not know, he's at a loss.
These souls have so much love to share,
why are they pointing it his way?
He only wants his Mother around
and she should be here any day.
He feels sorry for such woes.
So lets them smile and talk away.
Secretly he does wish they would go,
he wants to go outside and play.
They say to him “Well bye then Dad.”
It sends such shudders down his spine.
He thinks that they must all be mad.
Call me Dad, I'm only nine.
They wave their hands as off they go
and he waves back, too be polite.
Though memories will never show
and he will not live through the night.
At his grave side his family mourn,
so sorry that he went this way.
It's hard forgeting children born,
and showing them no love display.
But as they pray they should look above
and as the sun lights, sullen day.
They might see looking down with love
the personage for whom they pray.
Disease all gone, with clear mind,
the one that earlier thought them mad.
With caring heart and thoughts so kind,
the spirit of there “Dear Old Dad”.
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 7:35 AM UTC
He stares all day out into space,
looking for she whom does not show.
A frightened look adorns his face,
Is something missing, he should know?
He is not sure, why or who
these strangers are who do converse.
He doesn't know quite what to do,
why is he here? Why have a nurse?
They look at him with loving eyes.
Smiling glances flow across.
What do they seek and what's more, Why?
He does not know, he's at a loss.
These souls have so much love to share,
why are they pointing it his way?
He only wants his Mother around
and she should be here any day.
He feels sorry for such woes.
So lets them smile and talk away.
Secretly he does wish they would go,
he wants to go outside and play.
They say to him “Well bye then Dad.”
It sends such shudders down his spine.
He thinks that they must all be mad.
Call me Dad, I'm only nine.
They wave their hands as off they go
and he waves back, too be polite.
Though memories will never show
and he will not live through the night.
At his grave side his family mourn,
so sorry that he went this way.
It's hard forgeting children born,
and showing them no love display.
But as they pray they should look above
and as the sun lights, sullen day.
They might see looking down with love
the personage for whom they pray.
Disease all gone, with clear mind,
the one that earlier thought them mad.
With caring heart and thoughts so kind,
the spirit of there “Dear Old Dad”.
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