16 Years Later
You left before I woke up
You were gone before the dawn
That day was dark
The sky deep blue
I could only think
How I'd miss you
You never told me what made you leave
I was never told...
You know when I started writing this, I had planned on writing about my dad. It's not something I've ever done before but his birthday was on the 17th of August and I decided to mark the occasion. I started writing this on the 27th of July figuring that I'd have lots of time to word what I wanted to say and then I could write it out.... Every time I came back to it though I couldn't think of what I wanted to say. If you woulda asked me what I was going to write I coulda probably told you exactly what I was going to say and how I woulda said it. The words "If I ever see that man again, I'll beat his ass so bad he'll be the only man in heaven in a wheel chair" probably would have been said as well. But as soon as I sat down to either write or type.... I had nothin. Not a damn thing. I couldn't (And still can't) figure it out. When it comes to me and my dad, I'm never short for words. Never have been and I thought I never would. And then this goes and happens. What in the bluest of blue hells is going on? (That was just me talkin to me by the way. It's when I start answering myself is when I should start worrying I guess)
And so exactly a month after sitting down to talk some serious shit about John Furlong, somehow I can't do it. Mind-boggling. I could tell some stories (all true by the way) that would make you (the reader) despise everything about him but I wouldn't let anybody talk smack about him. That right I reserve for my brother, my sister, and myself. And after years and years (16 of them actually) I finally found myself with nothing left to say. I must be getting old or somethin. P.S. Sorry about the language, but as anybody who's ever heard about me talk about my father know's, if I didn't swear, I'd just be trying to hide what I was really thinking. And where's the fun in that?
Written August 27th
You were gone before the dawn
That day was dark
The sky deep blue
I could only think
How I'd miss you
You never told me what made you leave
I was never told...
You know when I started writing this, I had planned on writing about my dad. It's not something I've ever done before but his birthday was on the 17th of August and I decided to mark the occasion. I started writing this on the 27th of July figuring that I'd have lots of time to word what I wanted to say and then I could write it out.... Every time I came back to it though I couldn't think of what I wanted to say. If you woulda asked me what I was going to write I coulda probably told you exactly what I was going to say and how I woulda said it. The words "If I ever see that man again, I'll beat his ass so bad he'll be the only man in heaven in a wheel chair" probably would have been said as well. But as soon as I sat down to either write or type.... I had nothin. Not a damn thing. I couldn't (And still can't) figure it out. When it comes to me and my dad, I'm never short for words. Never have been and I thought I never would. And then this goes and happens. What in the bluest of blue hells is going on? (That was just me talkin to me by the way. It's when I start answering myself is when I should start worrying I guess)
And so exactly a month after sitting down to talk some serious shit about John Furlong, somehow I can't do it. Mind-boggling. I could tell some stories (all true by the way) that would make you (the reader) despise everything about him but I wouldn't let anybody talk smack about him. That right I reserve for my brother, my sister, and myself. And after years and years (16 of them actually) I finally found myself with nothing left to say. I must be getting old or somethin. P.S. Sorry about the language, but as anybody who's ever heard about me talk about my father know's, if I didn't swear, I'd just be trying to hide what I was really thinking. And where's the fun in that?
Written August 27th
posted by Kyle at 11:05 PM
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