A Poem for our Dads

We buried our fathers (2012)

We buried our fathers,

Finally realizing what they taught us

through patient living

and stepping up to their responsibilities.

Mr. Smith, Mr. Heavern, my dad,

all heroes by not trying to be heroes;

working every single day,

providing all of the basic necessities

of food, clothing, shelter, and love.

They never really asked for much,

rarely complained

about life’s unfairness

or what they left behind;

young man dreams of

world travel, riches, fame,

world changing inventions,

that unwritten novel,

intentions of greatness,

lost in a life of unseen dreams.

They were made great by their plodding life

that left a legacy of

decent human beings

who now raise their children

and live their lives

in the same common,

yet, uncommon manner.


2 Responses to A Poem for our Dads

  1. Cindy says:

    Lovely! And very true. And such a great picture!

  2. dale says:

    Brent, I think this poem says as much about the author as it does about the subjects…you can’t write with such feeling until you have lived a bit. Its true that life is what happens while you are busy making plans…

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