Going Back 2 Poem by David Taylor

Well I am writing this drunk,
had too many beers
on the eve of my birthday
with, it seems, little to cheer.
With my wife and her father
we're signing a song
and the evening as usual
has gone, gone all wrong.

She is so tearful
and I'm taking offence.
The father that raised her
and made her all that she is;
is that her defence?
And when will she see
her tears make no difference
the past is the past
and he never can mend
the pain and the guilt
the lost childhood and teens
can anyone ever put back the time
and regain what was lost
through follies of crime.

No this is a verse
that never can rhyme
because the past is the past
and her emotions are prime.
So what should I do?
Continue writing this story
of lost times and glories
No, I will not become another
that simply succumbs
Spirit in Its glory
Is here all the same
whatever the players
whatever the game.

Nothing prepared
for the wrath that ensued
when the alcohol
burnt through the very short fuse
but spirit it came in the depths of the night
and brought a vision
too beautiful for sight.
The walls that surround us
were made of pure love
and everything around me
was sent from above
and without any features
your face it was seen
as if it had always
been watching the scene.