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JeanFrancois Denis

Dad and Son

A dad, a son,
One life, one love,
A road, all alone,
One last strife, from above.
Dad's ticket has been bought,
Dad's heart has been shot.
Unfair, son cries,
Dad dries.
Shaky hands rub son's face,
With embrace,
Dad whispers words,
In son's ear.
Another tear of the son falls,
On dad's palm vanishing with rainfalls.
Can not breathe easy,
Blood flows from dad's body.
Dad smiles and looks his son,
As his hand falls on the ground.
Eyes stay glassy and empty,
A tear dropp stays still on dad's eyelash.

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