Wednesday, 14 September 2011


It was four years ago today, I watched my Daddy die
There were no words that I could say, I could only cry.
With all those painful questions going round my head.
Why couldn't God have spared him and taken me instead.

It hurt so much to watch as he fought to hold onto life.
He didn’t want to leave his family or his wife.
It's hard to grasp the fact that he's no longer here
But in some strange way I can still feel him quite near.

I am glad that I was sober as his life it ebbed away.
It was an honour to be there, holding hands on his final day.
There are times I'd love to have him back to have a little talk.
Or to go to Dollymount for a sunny Sunday walk.

To watch him fill his pipe and smoke it sure and slow.
How I loved those Sunday evenings, to the local pub we'd go.
The stories that he told of life when he was a boy.
To hear him tell them now would fill my heart with joy.

Don't be afraid to ask questions, I often heard him say.
Like so much good advice he dispensed along his way.
I know it wasn't all rosy no life can ever be.
But the good times are the ones most cherished by me.

He lived his life simply and didn't intend harm to anyone.
And today I am proud of the fact that I'm his son.
Although there is a void deep  inside of me.
I can fill it with memories of what used to be.

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