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Array
(
[sid] => 9554
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Not Yet
[time] => 2002-12-31 23:40:00
[hometext] => This is a very hard poem for me to write, but as my poetry is a journal or diary of my life events- I must write it. I pray if may help others.
Russ-aka- Lone_er [bodytext] => How does one live With such anguish and pain With what shall my guilt be cleansed These tears falling like rain?? If only I would have been astute Not so wrapped up in “ ME” Would I have been the father? I should always be? Would my son be lying In throes of addiction severe? Would he be free If only I’d persevere Would his soul be so wounded His spirit all but done If only his father Had been the one To show him the way To deal with his hurt To understand regret For depression be alert Instead my son lies In agony upon a hospital bed Caught between heaven and hell Between living and dead Yes I am living Inside your agony my son I beg your forgiveness For I am the one Who felt your bewilderment Your deep-seated fear Knew you needed help When none did appear I watched and waited Not knowing what to do Hoping and praying You’d make it through But I am your father No more will I hesitate I will attack your demons No more will I wait With fury and determination Will I fight for my son I will be relentless Until the battle is won So death be warned The lines have been set I will defend my son You can’t have him yet Russ [comments] => 3 [counter] => 264 [topic] => 39 [informant] => Lone_er [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 8 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Grief )
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