Now that you're dead
Who will show me how to ride my bike?
Now that you're dead
Who will teach me how to mow the lawn?
Now that you're dead
Who will I play catch with?
Now that you're dead
Who will teach me how to fight?
Now that you're dead
Who will show me how to shave?
Now that you're dead
Now that you're dead…. T
he family hasten been the same without you Dad.
Well it looks like its time to grow up and figure things out on my own. Hard or easy are the only two ways underneath me.
The tools of what my Farther gave me to make it on my own
Now comes into play every day.
'Work hard, play hard, life is like a reword you got to work for it'
What my dying farther said to me in his hospital bed.
Dad I'll always remember what you tort me.
R.I.P
i respect you for putting out such a personal piece of yourself for other people who know nothing about you to read. it shows that you are a stronger person than most.
Matt, this is a poem everyone can relate to. Even though my father died when he was 70 and I was 39, there were still things that I needed, or perhaps, wanted him to teach me, maybe even if it was just how to be at 71 or 81, or 101. The lessons that he taught me up to then will always be with me and my son who adored my father. Nice work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice work! Its' a gift to be able to write what you feel. Ngaio Beck