The death of my father
Was shocking to some
But it seemed like a bother
To someone so young

Death happens for a reason
This so I’m told
The answer could be treason
Until you get old

An acceptance from me
In the form of this rhyme
An attempt to see
Took quite a long time

To release such pain
In an attempt to grow
An unfettered tapped vein
An effortless flow

A father that was bold
And brilliant to the core
The stories retold
To make sound like folk lore

One problem remained
Was the source of his demise
For which brought us pain
Of which not disguised

Alcohol, an evil temptation
A disease of the soul
An affliction, An exploitation
Destruction, it’s only goal

Abuse became frequent
Battles were fought
Scars were consequent
Leaving each of us forever distraught

I miss him to this day
Daddy’s little girl I’ll always be
His love will never go away
And mine will live thru infinity

By Pamela Mullins
Copyright © 2003 Pamela Mullins. All Rights Reserved.
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