In Memory

Something I put here
On this piece of paper,
Is something special.

It is my sadness,
It is my curiosity,
It is my way of conveying my emotions.

I ask my heart, my memories,
I have no power to ask my Dad;
I don't want tears.

Deep down my heart cries
Sadness will be promised to Dad,
I know my Dad,
And I know he is sad deep down.
I love him.
And I'm sure I would do the same if Grand Dad was here.

So I ask again,
Who was he?
Was he great, or bad?

Don't answer me,
For I know the truth,
The truth of him being great,
Noble.

You know,
I care.
I love Dad,
And even if he is not here,
Grand Dad.

Why?
Why didn't I see him?
Has God no mercy?
Dad loved him did he not?
I regret having a useless brain.

I know he is here,
Somewhere in Dad's heart and mine,
But does Mum miss him as much?

Oh Lord, I want answers!
The millions of questions in my brain demand.
But I know and hate the fact,
The fact is...
It is too late.


(This poem was finished on the 28th of October, 2009 at 9:39p.m AEST)