this one's for you dad
from 
JoeUser Forums
JoeUser Forums
A little poem I wrote with my dad in mind at work yesterday in the spirit of father's day. I usually never sit down with a subject in mind so this was kind of a challenge for me. I'm playing with the spacing a bit, would love to hear your thoughts.
EDITED 6/22
Dad,
Never hindered my,
Step
By
Step stumbling,
With the missing pieces of his legacy,
Even when I let my falls and disrespect get the best of me.
His passions were reserved for,
Long road trip stories,
After-dinner coffees,
Or over our full cups before dawn,
I did inherit his tendency to never sleep too long.
In the limited company,
Where I am treated like a man,
We are dependent and depended upon.
Regardless of polarized political spectrums,
Bike spokes,
Cigar smoke,
and punchlines with "rectum."
When I'm half as humble,
I'll be well on my way to becoming,
My father's-son,
Then he'll see,
For better or for worse,
The way sons become distant and removed one instant,
Then trying to excuse themselves from the notion that we never,
Wanted,
To be,
Like them the next.
My better judgment,
Let me away from
These juvenile dillusions,
These juvenile confusions.
I still can't read a map,
A tax form,
Or a Tom Clancy Novel,
Somedays,
I can read his face like a book.
I know I owe,
Thanks,
Apologies,
Money,
But there's a million other things you've given,
That I'll never let slip away from me.
EDITED 6/22
Dad,
Never hindered my,
Step
By
Step stumbling,
With the missing pieces of his legacy,
Even when I let my falls and disrespect get the best of me.
His passions were reserved for,
Long road trip stories,
After-dinner coffees,
Or over our full cups before dawn,
I did inherit his tendency to never sleep too long.
In the limited company,
Where I am treated like a man,
We are dependent and depended upon.
Regardless of polarized political spectrums,
Bike spokes,
Cigar smoke,
and punchlines with "rectum."
When I'm half as humble,
I'll be well on my way to becoming,
My father's-son,
Then he'll see,
For better or for worse,
The way sons become distant and removed one instant,
Then trying to excuse themselves from the notion that we never,
Wanted,
To be,
Like them the next.
My better judgment,
Let me away from
These juvenile dillusions,
These juvenile confusions.
I still can't read a map,
A tax form,
Or a Tom Clancy Novel,
Somedays,
I can read his face like a book.
I know I owe,
Thanks,
Apologies,
Money,
But there's a million other things you've given,
That I'll never let slip away from me.
