Walking with my father
through the junkie’s habitat of the park
past the band-stand to the pond
where we stood and watched the birds

I longed to find some words to speak to him
as he stood beside me like a statue
in some stony silent prayer
I racked my brain for something true
some sort of spoken key
to unlock the parts in him he never shows

I wanted to see some proof
that deep inside he loves me too
I needed to touch his scars
to finally believe that all of this is real…


Thanks for reading this very old poem.

Check out my photos.

Published by

Tom Alexander

"Art is a lie that tells the truth"

8 thoughts on “Proof”

    1. Aww, thanks. When the younger me wrote these words he never thought anyone would ever read them… let alone pay such a nice compliment. On his behalf, thank you! xx

      Liked by 1 person

    1. You’re so kind with you’re comments Benjamin 😊 Thank you for reading and I will try my best to keeping writing things I hope will touch you.


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