thank you for my callaus covered hands
for the feeling of my guitar
you taught me to be a man
not impressed by my scars
so thank you for pushing me
out into the night
knowing that i would die
or id learn to fight
thanks for leaving when mom was sick
do you try to be a d@#&
but thanks for a bat on my shoulder
did it hurt you when i cried
here i am 6 years older
and guess what
your gone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem