A Little Fart
27 May, 2002
Author: Don Fraser
Right from the start,
When I was,
A little fart.
Some kids never bother,
But me,
I worshiped my Father.
On the top is the cream,
My Father was,
Every boy’s dream.
He never played ball,
But as a Father,
He gave his all.
He was sick for most of his life,
He had more than his share,
Of strife.
At the end,
Still he was,
My friend.
I miss him to this day,
If he were here,
We would play.
He was young when he died.
Myself and my,
Family cried.
He has been gone for years,
To this day,
I shed tears.
Dad if you can hear me.
Please understand my plea,
Please Dad, come back to me.
Tweet |
Comments on this poem/writing:
|
Click here to read other Poems by Don Fraser
Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved. No part of this website, including all pictures and written words, may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without permission of the original author of the work. All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner. All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: dreamer@dreamersreality.com so the proper person may be notified.