PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

GiGi made a phone call and daddy was on his way back home

Christmas Eve, opened them all out of his presence

midnight, the clock just fell, then came a knock on the door

Preacher man in the freezing cold, moon in a devious crescent

It seems daddy took the scenic route, but ended up on the lawn

Next door to  mother's house, that morning never met the dawn

Panic now, whats a son to do, left lonely, in December rain

Lack tears,slowly lost his fears,and surely he refused the pain

Drifted in and he drifted out of reality throughout his days

No dad here to raise this lad, he slowly learned that crime could pay

A decade of the devil's deeds, the boy fell into better things

A beauty arose from the Memphis streets just as smooth as a raven's wing

A year later his heart has thawed and grown

Due to a new formed bond and a family to call his own

But still the rebel resides in the soul of this beaten lad

He often looks back on the past and the love that he never had

Regret,guilt,pentance, hostility often wander about his mind

Towards the love of a father figure he tried so hard to find

Twelve years will never fade though days, they come and go

As he goes he views strangers as friends, and friends as bitter foes

But shall his name be forever etched into the memories of those he's known

Set his body in the Bastards' Throne, pay your respects then leave him alone