Memories of a Father,and what seems lost... |
Waiting on Time By: Pipinheart He is old and weary, as he sits by the fire He looks at it flickering with no desire Youth has abandoned him, as life speeds by He no longer cares if he withers and dies He used to put me on his shoulders Where I could reach the sky I would listen to him play his guitar As he weaved a magical song His stories enchanted me when I was a child As I’ve grown older, I understand their lore His wisdom of days gone by, still rings true As I wish to beg him to tell me one more He is my father, and I love him Yet in the mist of living he seems to fade He lingers to the past, where memories remain Yet he has forgotten, love surrounds him Will he come back to those who love him? Or does he remain forever in the past He has never been forgotten Because we hold out our hands with love Dear Father hear me calling to you Come out of the memories of the past And create with me living memories As long as these days will last Days may be short, and who knows how long we have But don’t despair in that knowledge, just take my hand And remember even when I don’t say it, I Love You Its just three words, yet sometime hard to say You don’t seem to like that word, so I seldom use it You use it to ridicule, and the word seems poisonous I know you’re not yourself, yet I do wish That my father would come back to me I remember you calling me my pet names And I sure did hate them, but now I miss them I wish I were little again, because you were yourself And now you’re a shadow of the man that was my Father You taught me many things, as I grew older Yet there is one lesson you hadn’t taught What do you do, when the one you love No longer wants to live anymore What do you do then, Father? When all you want is peace Yet those who love you want to weep And you have slowly nodded of to sleep Should I let you go, to find your sleep? And no longer plead with you, to keep up the struggle You have faded, and our no longer you And the Father I Loved, is waiting to die What do I do? What can I say? But sit by the fire And watch you fade |