Proof

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…

[2005]

Thanks for reading this very old poem.

Check out my photos.

8 thoughts on “Proof”

    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.

      Like

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