Subject: | |
From: | |
Reply To: | |
Date: | Sun, 29 Jul 2007 01:49:15 -0500 |
Content-Type: | text/plain |
Parts/Attachments: |
|
|
Oh Teri Honey!
You poor thing! I have an inkling of understanding of what you must
be feeling as I just read your poem about your Dad! Mine was like
that, too, in many ways, but he was a fair man in other ways, too.
LOVE AND PRAYERS,
Reeva Parry.
At 01:21 AM 7/18/2007, Teri Van Pelt sent:
>Words for My Dad
>
>By Teri Van Pelt
>
>7-18-07
>
>Sitting there in my dad's ole' pick up truck.
>
>Feeling somewhat paralyzed, I felt stuck.
>
>I possessed feelings for my dad I needed to convey.
>
>Contemplating just what and how to say
>
>I counted to three underneath my breath,
>
>Felt like I was meeting death.
>
>All at once, I let the words out.
>
>But his reply was with a cursing shout.
>
>"Why must you talk that way?"
>
>"Love is something I don't need to say."
>
>"I say I love you by the fact that you are fed."
>
>"Don't you have a roof over your head?"
>
>He sat there continuing to tear me a part.
>
>I guess I should have kept the words "I love you" inside my heart."
|
|
|