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My Old Man




My old man didn’t bring me to life
But he sure as hell is there every step of the way;
Cradling the innocence within me,
Dragging my bones, sometimes way too harshly
And yet I don’t mind, I never do

He walks as much as he talks
wearing the grey too early for his folks
Every time his mouth opens,
he breathes out my lifeline
And yet I don’t mind

The ship bows when he whispers to the wind
The time comes for the sun to dim,
He lingers, not even once giving in
Through whomever mouth the cruelty slipped out,
He stands, not even once giving up

I recall finding every bones in his body breaks apart;
His voice raised, his blood dried up;
Saltwater pooling in his clear stare, more than he can ever bear
But never once I feel the grip of him loose from my ends

I might not come from him, not entirely
But I might as well be, I always wish I do
For he is the only living breathing human being,
whose quarter blood runs in my vein,
never breaks my heart,
or put my wrists in chain

Every good pieces of myself lives in his eyes
And from within I found out clearly
That a father could lay underneath something
Way further, with grand in the beginning

Forever is fucking numbered
But, oh, my old man,
I would never ready to greet you with goodbye
And yet I shall not mind
Well, after all of your sacrifices,
How could I? 
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