A Crack On The Ground
The last time I saw him breath he was asleep,
by Peter Gumbo
But the last time I saw him sleep,
I could not help but weep,
My tears trickled down and formed a sorrowful heap,
Lying there cold,
His face just seemed hollow,
Even though the faces around him,
Were drowning in sorrow,
Gone? To them it did not seem.
Gone in an instant like thunder,
Clear yet unexpected,
Leaving us all torn asunder,
And feeling rejected.
The cruel hand that fate lends in misery,
To me will forever be a mystery,
Who would have ever thought that he would be gone elsewhere,
And that I would be staring at an empty chair.
It pains me to see my mother wither in sadness,
To see my siblings roaming in emptiness,
And to watch the ship of our home,
Sink to the beds of nothingness,
Why did you have to go?
Dad I long for the day I will here you breathe again R.I.P