A Poem by wizzawiz

Teardrops stain my cheeks as I remember the man that was.

A powerhouse of strength,



And my inspiration;

Now shrunk and battered,

Weakened by the poisons

Requisitely pumped into his tiring veins

To fight the failings of a system built for more.

As he sat in that bed I saw glimpses of the frightened boy he must once have been;

Long before I was even the seed of an apple in his mind's eye;

And brought forth again,

There was an innocence;

A determination;

A desperation,

As he willed himself to avoid the queue for the exit;

A queue which his body had already joined,

And could not be drawn away from.

As the tears flow they are not purely of sorrow

They are of pride;

Of respect;

Of love;

Of hope.

He never gave up,

In spite of the failings of his mortal vehicle.

The mental and physical exhaustion took their toll

But were denied their final victory over an indefatigable spirit and strength of mind which will live on eternally.

Teardrops stain my cheek as I remember the man that was,

And will always be.

© 2011 wizzawiz

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sometimes the inner strength is greater than what we portray outside. this a very heartfelt piece, you did a great job bringing this together.
Excellent write.

Posted 10 Years Ago

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1 Review
Added on January 25, 2011
Last Updated on August 5, 2011
Tags: grief, poetry, death, dad, father, health, chemotherapy, illness



Newcastle, North East, United Kingdom

A 24 year-old writing, editing, proofreading, poetry-writing, chatty, giggler with a keen interest in sports and all things gluten-free. When 'poeming' I tend to focus on my own genre of 'tweenage ang.. more..

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