a man of truth and loyal heart
distant yet distinct
in morals set a world apart
from those of love extinct

he held the house up with his hands
his feet did tread the base
his back was struck by wind and storm
and rain fell on his face

yet not a single world of pain
did utter from his lips
the outside world knew not his strife
which warm eyes did eclipse

he loved the mother of his child
with love beyond compare
yet love did target father’s heart
with passions struck unfair

in nights of drink and nights of dark
a traitor crept within
she grasped his heart with hands of steel
and punched his soft face in

she left him cradling bodied guilt
not knowing lies from truth
a muddled mess of tearful fault
belonging to his youth

bottled secrets stayed behind
the locked door of his fear
and to his child the private life
ne’er spilled on faithful ear


16 thoughts on “father

  1. Wonderful piece! Funny enough, I was just thinking about my own father (and writing about him) when I came across this poem. Also, I have a huge soft spot for Byron and his love of “galloping” couplet, on whose words I teethed. You employ it very well here. Romantics, Romantics, Romantics—love ’em.

    You’ve just created two coincidences in my day. Bravo. Just one to go, by the rule of threes.

    Liked by 1 person

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