Trains. Poem by D.A. Woods

when I was a young boy, my father said to me,
grow up a proud man son and then you'll see,
happieness, pain, suffering, misery will all fall into place,
and when you have a family love them with open embrace.

His words I didn't care for much at the time,
for I was only a young boy of nine,
I never knew he was going to be leaving,
and soon we'll all be grieving.

He took my hand out walking, then headed home on our way back,
we'd listen out for trains rolling on the old railroad track,
hand in hand, a solitude of silence, my daddy and I would keep going,
and stop for a while, when we heard the whistle blowing.

The angels came to take him that very same night,
I swear I saw them talking him into the bright light,
I ran towards him, hugged and asked dont go out loud,
he crouched down, wipped my tears and said son, make me proud.

make me proud of what I've told you and now you are the man,
help and love your mum everyday to the best that you can.
I have to go now son, my time here is over,
one day we'll all meet again and walk through the hop clover.

thirty years has gone and so has mum, and I still live in my birthplace,
I walked along that railroad with my son with a tear stained face,
I envision my childhood and the happy memories of joy that I had,
one day we'll all come full circle - words of wisdom from my dad.