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