Fathers are wonderful people
Too little understood,
And we do not sing their praises
As often as we should...
For, somehow, Father seems to be
The man who pays the bills,
While Mother binds up little hurts
And nurses all our ills...
......
No dad is ever perfect...
Not by any means...
Some dads are super cool...
Some dads make us eat our greens...
Some dads work all the time
And don’t get home until late at night...
Some dads have to work two jobs
And don’t get home until morning light...
......
All my life I wanted a dad, a cool dad
Someone who would fight for me like I would fight for him
But I don’t think I ever found that
I found someone broken yet living just teetering off into outer space
Still believing in the lord
But the lord not showing any mercy on his soul
I remember when I was a child, about seven or eight, I would look through the huge box for toys. The box could easily fit three or four kids my size, but I would jump in there and look for toys, and it was filled with action figures, lego's and cars and I never found what I really wanted. I wasn’t satisfied will all the toys in the box. I don’t even know how I accumulated all these toys of zero interest, but my dad was the same way with books. Books lining the wall, in corners never to be touched and I realize I’m like my father. I traded my toys for books now but I’m still that child, I have a book shelf and more books on the coffee table, but I’m still looking through these pages for answers to my questions or for advice that sages give out freely. I guess its just my fate to keep yearning for these things. So I’ll keep buying books and my dad will keep renting them and on and on it goes. I’ll let you know when dad and I find what we’re looking for.
Continue reading
You'll probably never see this
Never read this
You probably don't even know
That I'm a writer
You were proud of me
For as long as it was convenient
You supported me
For as long as it supported your good dad persona
......
I remember when I was a child, about seven or eight, I would look through the huge box for toys. The box could easily fit three or four kids my size, but I would jump in there and look for toys, and it was filled with action figures, lego's and cars and I never found what I really wanted. I wasn’t satisfied will all the toys in the box. I don’t even know how I accumulated all these toys of zero interest, but my dad was the same way with books. Books lining the wall, in corners never to be touched and I realize I’m like my father. I traded my toys for books now but I’m still that child, I have a book shelf and more books on the coffee table, but I’m still looking through these pages for answers to my questions or for advice that sages give out freely. I guess its just my fate to keep yearning for these things. So I’ll keep buying books and my dad will keep renting them and on and on it goes. I’ll let you know when dad and I find what we’re looking for.
Continue reading
All my life I wanted a dad, a cool dad
Someone who would fight for me like I would fight for him
But I don’t think I ever found that
I found someone broken yet living just teetering off into outer space
Still believing in the lord
But the lord not showing any mercy on his soul
These are poems about family, poems about sons, and poems about their mothers and fathers.
Mother’s Smile
by Michael R. Burch
for my mother, Christine Ena Burch,
and my wife, Elizabeth Harris Burch
......
Be a father to me
place a hand on my head
keep me rooted, my mind
Oh father, why won’t you let me levitate?
I understand that you are distant
for me to grow above you
but please, that searing shield you carry,
put it down.
Embrace me warmly
......
You'll probably never see this
Never read this
You probably don't even know
That I'm a writer
You were proud of me
For as long as it was convenient
You supported me
For as long as it supported your good dad persona
......