PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

subtle smile,

confident and empathetic

and dimpled just enough

to believe.

I walk as if I know them

just like the man they came

here to see

for he was my father

and I am he who remains

his first son.



quiet stare,

of life he gave me

and I watch them

as they shuffle past

in their grays and blacks,

reminiscing through the eyes

of a nine year old boy

who tries to stand tall

in the shadows of a man

he barely knew

and they cry

and they smile

at the four small reminders

of their friend, their classmate, their brother.

but, they look for me

for I am he who remains

his first son.



feeding heart,

he speaks to me

and I feel him take a place

within my soul.

slow pace walk amongst the people

lost in heartache

for a bigger part of me

that touched their world.

Then I walk up to his presence

to look upon him now

while they guard

my best intentions

with their love...

and I touch the golden cufflinks

and I memorize the man

thanking him with whispers

and tears that claim the face

of his first son,

he who remains.