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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Saying Goodbye.

Submitted: May 02, 2018

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Submitted: May 02, 2018





I still live in the house where you died,

Often I am reminded of your final day;

The words my mother said as you struggled to breathe,

A vision the night before,

But always how she told you to fly.


That weekend I had been away,

A message brought me home.

Different people were there when I got back,

Everyone felt that it was time to say farewell,

But I did not know you anymore.


It always comes to six,

The years of your anger and treatment.

Injections of testosterone that failed,

Your ups and downs,

Me having to be on guard against your emotions,

First the anger and your fists,

Then your sadness and depression.


Those years were not so great,

School was my escape.

I did not eat much,

As food was hard to come by.

I did my best to stay out of trouble,

To do the family proud,

But I was forgotten and blamed,

More because people did not understand.


It has been four years since your death.

People move on,

But I am still waiting for God to come through.

I trust Him,

People not so much.

Amidst the betrayal of family,

I still hope to someday have one.


The girl I Loved, did not Love me,

She got married to a good man I think.

I still remember howling like a wolf,

The silence that followed,

My pain in the quiet.

I don't drink to excess because of the guy that killed Grandad.

Smoking is not my pleasure,

It reminds me of Boss John and his fox tobacco and his pipe,

A memory reminds me that I once thought it was biltong,

I remember how fast I spat it out.


Funny how the older men in our family,

Are all elsewhere or far away,

Quite a few are heavens side.

I hope one day to be a good father,

At the moment I am not sure how that will look.


There is an understanding that this is my therapy,

This is the song or the poem that I leave behind,

But also and lastly this is how I grieve and remember,

This is how I say my goodbye.

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