They are all there
Every time I turn my head
I see my fears of paternal failure
I see my children crying
Whilst I grow old without them
The sad thing is that I run toward them not away
My sight has clearer vision it seems
Than their blindness
A man can only be a father once his failures
Are appreciated as failures
And not failures of love for thee

Death fears no one

Permanent as the sun
And
When it strikes
It’s been watching for a while

With intent

You
Me
Family and friends

No chance of escape

It’s a procession
An exit
From the world
Neither rhyme nor reason explains
Your fall from life

Take your number

Get in the queue and pray like hell
You have a good ride
And
Told some one you loved them

Often

I think of your face that day
Forever
The picture of grief it told
And the tears of rain
Torment and anger
How you were brave and bold

Your second child another major loss
Forever
Tears, grief and heartache endless pain
Just a kid in a fast car
Torment and anger
Couldn’t happen to you, ever again

Only 18 years of age
Forever
A magnificent 500 horse power ford
And he had two choices
Torment and anger
Slow down or serve our lord

And you lost another son
Forever
Just a few years before
Your shattered heart broken
Torment and anger
Again the fear and police at your door

Suicide, is that your final choice in life
Your first choice to enter heaven or hell
Not a great start to death is it?

I pondered your words,
Every one,
I wondered about your deepest thoughts,
My son.

You tried to dream your life,
Every year,
I thought you’d join the police,
Another fear.

And about your football skills,
Every move,
Good enough for me old mate,
Nothing to prove.

One day I reckon’ I’ll go,
And the tragedy will be,
I won’t hear what people are saying’
As they eulogize about me.

Reading my own eulogy,
Now that would be fun,
Then jump back in the box,
Shouting, I just must really run.

Before I went though,
The mourners might query,
That cos’ I’d been dead a week,
Was I feelin’ weary.

And at this stage of proceedings,
I reckon’ I would’ve heard the bell,
As Satan pulled up in a limo, signed,
“Destination Hell”.

And as death normally does,
Tears are always provoked,
But what’s the good of cryin’, I’d say,
If, I’ve already croaked.

And as I lay in a box,
Just listening to prayers,
And a priest who’s never met me,
Thinking, “who really cares”?

So I reckon at the wake,
I’d just lie there and listen,
Wishing I was pissed,
With the mates that I’m missing.

Put your arm around my shoulder.
And seat yourself by me,
Tell me you’re my favourite brother,
To this, watch me agree.

Tell me of your sadness,
How your family fell apart,
As sibling versus sibling,
Tore pieces from your heart.

Look me in the eye again,
Your search for tears is vain,
Cos’ the hatchet fell on me as well,
Unlike you I feel no pain.