Dad

Poor little boy
who was second
And not first.

Oh for their love
and acceptance
did you thirst.

Trying to make it
in a world full of classes.
Swallowed up you were
by the usual masses.

The line of your family
you did extend.
But sadness remained
even unto the end.

The Patriarch
has now gone
and passed.
But still in his eyes
you weren’t first
but last.

Now that he’s departed,
I hope you can heal.
And know that your life
on earth was for real.


He’s not looking
over your shoulder
any more.
He is mourning
the little boy,
who too him
should have
meant more.