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Konrad Jacek Kantorowski
1 Free Members

1 Members
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Bailey, 8
by Sarah Taylor (Age: 31)
copyright 01-21-2005


Age Rating: 7 to 127

 
XOXOXO

Tonight, an empty chair stood,
Where you used to be;
Once it was the four of us,
Too often now, just three—

I wonder if it’s my fault—
I feel that mommy’s sad.
I promise, Dad, if you come back,
I will not be so bad:

I know it really bugs you,
When we argue, scream and fight.
Sometimes, Dad, you do it too!
I hear you, late at night;

Lying, still, in darkness.
My blanket hugs me tight.
I send a message, up above,
“Please, God, just not tonight.”

One day our mom will sit us down:
That day I fear the most.
I really do not want to choose,
I do not want a vote—

I wonder what I’ll say then—
I wonder who I’ll choose:
Either way the answer goes,
I’ll be the one to lose.

I need you more then ever:
These days won’t come again.
And, if this is our big mistake,
What could you tell me, then?

A sorry, just won’t cut it.
So, Dad, if you still care,
Tomorrow night, at dinner time,
We’ll see you, in your chair.

Sarah Taylor


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01-22-2005 Sarah Taylor    




01-22-2005 Sammy A.    

It's sad but I like it!
01-22-2005 Lyle Berry    

An excellent poem Sarah, with lots of honest emotion and tenderness. This is the type of poem that tugs at the heart strings of the reader, who is made to feel what the writer felt by the word pictures you've drawn. Liked it alot!

Best Regards,
Lyle
Visitor Reads: 289
Total Reads: 309
Comments: 3

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