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I am sorry father
For all that I've done.
I worked so hard to make it
But I'm not your only son.
Nobody is perfect
I realized that too late.
Now my task is done,
I hope for what I've done, you will not hate.
Sorry I couldn't get on the field
Screaming touchdown really loud
But I had to do something wild
Something that would make you proud.
I did a job that you would love
Although I still messed up
These are my last words to you
My father who I will always love.
I was a stunt man and my car exploded
As it hit the groun
I said father forgive me
And that was my last sound.
They rushed me to the E. R.
After they saw me in the smoky shroud
I'm sorry I didn't make it,
But I hope I made you proud.
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wow. nicely done. there are a couple parts that could have been done a bit better (I hope you will not hate?) but the feelings of regret and the need to be appreciated... just, wow. your poetry's awesome.
This seems very much about the desire for a parent's affection and respect and thoughts of what it might take to get it, feeling like even the most intense stuff might not work. There's a lot of feeling in this poem and I respect it.
