irenio irenaeus bero

Jose Bero

Six or seven years old I was
I remember holding those hands
Very tight on a Sunday as he taught
Me how to cross that busy road

Over and over again
He reminded me look both ways
And make sure no car was close by

Together we walked throughout the filthy city
As we enjoyable the serenity
Of each others company

How I vividly remember
Him carrying me on his broad shoulders
Sharing his joys

If there was a way
To retrace my footsteps and emotions
I would definitely skip many adventures
To run back to those memorable happiness
I miss you father

Poem Submitted: Friday, February 12, 2010

Add this poem to MyPoemList

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings
rate this poem

Comments about Jose Bero by irenio irenaeus bero

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?