Posted in Poetry
i think of my father
who sits alone tonight
who misses his sweetheart
who will probably remarry
because man was not meant to be alone
in this stupid, senseless world
where my mother is dead
with grandchildren yet unborn
and in spite of it all
in spite of the Sacrifice
and faith and hope and love remaining
o death there is a sting
{Copyright (c) 2005 C. Paden. All rights reserved.}
