Empty now,
The carpet filled with
The remnants of your loneliness —
For two and a half years,
In and out of rehab, and back to this
Five hundred sixty eight square feet
You’d finally a job
After eighteen months of nothingness,
Recently giving notice
And now, off to try your luck in
Another state
And what have I done?
I’ve paid for things
This apartment, power, phone,
Medicine, a doctor, a counselor,
Food, gas
Until such time as
You were able to pay for
Everything but the apartment
The medicine, and the counselor
I walked with you,
Talked with you,
Invited you over
But what is a father
But the repository of a daughter’s dreams
And the storehouse of a son’s resentment?
With you —
Stuck between the two
Empty now,
The air heavy with
The weight of your loneliness —
Your verse creates a powerful image-Imagined, i hope… For any father (or mother) the above can be crushing except as one holds onto hope, and love of life.
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