So now you’re gone, I’ve come to grips,
 Venting through these fingertips,
 Sadness drips from out my pen,
 But words can’t bring you back again.
 It wasn’t very long ago,
 I watched you playing in the snow,
 Our time together, often rare,
 So very little time to share.
 Often late, your room I crept,
 So proudly watching you as you slept.
 There should have been more time for you,
 If somehow I had only knew.
 Your life so short, it tears at me,
 It’s you in every face I see,
 Just one more time, just you and I,
 Reminisce and make each other cry.
 I sink into this place, and think,
 It’s either this or sit and drink,
 I talk to you aloud at times,
 For hours we just chat in rhyme.
 I’m burnt, I’m cooked, I’m overdone,
 No, it’s just,I miss my Son.
 D.O. Smith 10