Father

By
With dark he’d arise,
Weekday, weekend,
He never stopped.

With a frantic voice,
He’d call to me to wake,
To start the day,
Yet his had been started hours prior.

Uncaring, id reply,
Disregarding,
Forgetting,
Walking by.

Yet,
How could I have known
How cold and bare,
Tense,
The ceaseless desk and chair.





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