When Father Let Go Of Son

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fourteen years ago,
you let go
of my hand,
since then
I am told
that every night
in my sleep,
I strech out my palms
and ask for a squeeze.
In the morning my hands,
are always closed.

Not Long Left

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM

Gina Onyemaechi 21 February 2006

Oh this is just so sincere, open, and fond. I also find it rather saddening, though, since the speaker no longer seems to have his father there for him. If this poem is really about you, Vincey, then I hope I'm wrong. Goodwillingly, Gina. Oh yeah, it'll be a 10 from me. G.

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Cj Heck 21 February 2006

Lovely tribute to a father and son's love, Vincent. Beautiful in its sincerity. Many hugs, CJ

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