Papa

A Poem by The Winter Poet

(For an amazing Father who's always been my strength... I Love You!)

Life is like a father,

Like mine’s like him too!

Someone who I could make prouder,

Yet he still fills my room with rue.

I am a son with a grey cape,

Yet I’d still put him to sleep in his drape.

He’s my superman and it’s on tape,

He’s strength when life’s a rape!

I wish I had lightning to bring more light,

Ah what the heck! I’ll still die to write him tides.

I am a son and I will for a father’s fight,

Ah the bird pecks! I am wingless without strides…

He’s my father and I am a son,

Nope! We are honest and we have no guns!

We've fought battles and seldom won,

But what the hell! we still share eggs with roasted buns…

He’s a smile I wear with hope,

Hope’s a word even when we got broke…

Yet the biggest gift is his strength to cope,

and yes he’s a friend I’d always like to poke!

Who needs a mother when he can fill the spot?

Who needs a lover when he’s life to tie a knot?

I’m sure as right and I mean post death still do us apart…

He’s a miracle to make my life even with it rots…

© 2016 The Winter Poet

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register

Featured Review

Gee

Hmmm, have read quite a few of your poems, none have been reviewed. I think other poets are trying to avoid telling you that what you have written is quite jumbled, forced to rhyme, stilted and at times makes little sense. It must be extremely difficult to write in a second language, and if I may suggest something, it would be you start off with poems with less content, master them, then move on to longer writes. I hope this in some way helps.