Compassion (a poem)

For my father

Where does it hurt, dad?

I see the mind turning,

the drugs, the Reds, the volume on high:

anything to quiet inner voice.

What does it tell you, dad?

Don’t believe it;

I don’t care about your money,

or your conquests.

I love you for who you are:

my father.

3 thoughts on “Compassion (a poem)

    • Nick Pipitone May 14, 2019 / 1:17 pm

      Thanks, Melodie! I will check out your blog.

      Like

      • Melodie Michelle ❤️ (cheLLe) May 14, 2019 / 5:14 pm

        Awwwww thank you Nick that’s very sweet of you and please comment!!!✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️

        Like

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