Post by Meluivan Indil on Jan 14, 2007 21:50:42 GMT -5
Well I think all of you know that I am not a poet. I've never claimed to be, but I've had something on my mind for the last couple of years that needed to go down on paper. This poem is dedicated to my father, who passed away a couple of years ago. His birthday is at the end of this month.
They sit and cry,
And they cannot ever guess why
Why did this have to be?
Why did it have to be me?
I have stayed for so long,
As they continuously pray that I hang on.
And for them I am here
For them I stay near
Though in my heart I know,
That it is beyond time for me to go.
I wanted to leave,
But I just could not stand to see them grieve.
But I cannot deny that it is time,
And for that reason I will steal away as if committing a crime.
I hope in my heart that they can understand,
For my life is no longer mine to command.
I hope they understand.
To better explain what I'm getting at here, my father lived on a respirator for the last 3 weeks of his life, even though he had told my mother that he did not want to live that way. When the doctors asked her whether to put him on the respirator she could not stand to let him go. And even though he had every right to hate my mother and the rest of us for doing that to him I only saw love in his eyes those last few weeks. He suffered it for us, because it is what we needed. I guess this is just a way for me to tell my father that I understand what he went through for us.
I Hope They Understand
They sit and cry,
And they cannot ever guess why
Why did this have to be?
Why did it have to be me?
I have stayed for so long,
As they continuously pray that I hang on.
And for them I am here
For them I stay near
Though in my heart I know,
That it is beyond time for me to go.
I wanted to leave,
But I just could not stand to see them grieve.
But I cannot deny that it is time,
And for that reason I will steal away as if committing a crime.
I hope in my heart that they can understand,
For my life is no longer mine to command.
I hope they understand.
To better explain what I'm getting at here, my father lived on a respirator for the last 3 weeks of his life, even though he had told my mother that he did not want to live that way. When the doctors asked her whether to put him on the respirator she could not stand to let him go. And even though he had every right to hate my mother and the rest of us for doing that to him I only saw love in his eyes those last few weeks. He suffered it for us, because it is what we needed. I guess this is just a way for me to tell my father that I understand what he went through for us.
