Treasure Island

Mike Barrett

(June,1943 / Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada)

A Requiem to T.F.B.


A
String
When drawn too tight
Snaps.

A
Branch
When bent too far
Breaks.

Grass
When trod upon too often
Dies.

Is
Not human love
Like any of these three?


May IT
In ITs infinite mercy
Grant this Soul
Yet another opportunity
Another chance
To learn the secrets
Which create the happiness
Which has eluded It
In this,
His lifetime.


© M. Barrett – all rights reserved

Submitted: Tuesday, October 08, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, October 09, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

T.F.B. were my father's initials. He and I had, at best, a tumultuous relationship. I stopped speaking to him at age 22, mainly due to his drinking, running around, his abusive behavior towards my mother prior to their divorce in the early '60s, and his decision not to contribute to her support nor the support of my six younger siblings. He was however quite able to support his then new spouse and family by a prior spouse. At his funeral, several years later, three of my brothers attended; my four sisters and I, not wanting to be hypocrites, declined.

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