Your Poems, Your Stories » Daddy

I Used to be a Daddy Once

Mike Laures — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 18:45:51 +0000

I USED TO BE A DADDY ONCE

My sons were born some years ago…

they swelled my pride and filled my soul

now their mother hates me…this I know

I used to be a daddy once…

They are smart and they are strong

I hope they understand that I was wrong

the name I’ve shamed…they carry on…

I used to be a daddy once…

Because of lust…I’ve a broken home

my heart is pained…I’m sooo alone

I cling to hope and clutch the phone…

I used to be a daddy once…

So listen fathers to my words so blue..

to your wife…your love be true…

dont let my story happen to you…

I used to be a daddy once…

to the one who nursed my joys…

my perfect kids…my loving boys..

who unknowingly killed me with feindish ploys…

I used to be a daddy once…

So hug your kids and hug them tight

thank your maker you’re there tonite

but because of anger…I lost that right…

I used to be a daddy once…

Now if only I could reverse the clock…

I’d be a better man…on this take stock

into sunsets with my kids …I would walk…

I used to be a daddy once….

So listen now and listen well….

forgive me mother…I’m here in hell

so learn this story..these words do tell…

I used to be a daddy once…

To be with my boys…hear me mother…

I’d be a good dad…a faithful lover..

to be true to my family…to want no other…

Just to be their daddy once…

I know my faults..please understand..

My spirit was weak..I’m just a man

to be with my boys…is my greatest plan…

Let me be their daddy once…

I cling to hope…I clutch at straws

I know my rights…I hate the laws..

so hear me now…please take pause…

I used to be their daddy once….

this is my story…of my wounded pride…

I’ve exposed my fear…it will not hide..

I was wrong…there is no side….

I used to be their daddy once…

Mike Laures – 2007

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at I Used to be a Daddy Once.

Why you should care…

Heart 4 poetry — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 00:28:19 +0000

Have you ever looked
deep into a sad child’s eyes or
have you ever stopped to listen
the their sad and lonley cries.
Most people refuse to believe it
although it is quite true,
that many children need mercy today
as many also need you.
So many children are beaten
and living in despair,
cause we don’t ever realize that
they need someone to care.
So many families are starving,
and often wondering why
that we don’t stop to help them
and continue on with our own lives.
So many fatherless children
who will never understand
why they have no precious daddy
or the strength of a loving father’s hand.
So many homeless people
living on the street
while we’re kept warm and cozy
and have plenty to eat.
This world is very greedy
and we should all understand
that we could be a sad, beaten child,
homeless and hungry family,
or a child all grown up to be a fatherless man.
Today someone may be reaching
out to take your hand
hoping that you’ll care for them
and that you’ll understand.
Don’t ever pass up a moment
when you got a hand to lend,
because someone out there may need you
and later you may need them.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Why you should care….

Ode to God

Alix Henriol — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 16:18:49 +0000

When the night is falling in France,
I gaze at a beautiful star,
Dazzled to make your acquittance,
I envision that’s where you are.

Since it’s a star you can’t define,
It makes it stunning and unique,
I can not help but imagine,
Maybe it’s the one God visits.

Please, forever be by my side,
Here’s my one and only wish,
Without you I can not survive,
Do not let me fail and perish.

You constantly read on my mind,
I do not need to speak out loud,
You trully taugh me to be kind,
Are you watching me from a cloud?

You are the one I want to serve,
With obedience and affection,
There is nothing you don’t deserve,
Object of my adoration.

Each time I step into a church,
I feel you starring in my soul,
It’s like my heart is gonna burst,
My whole mind becomes your tool.

So can we unite forever?
To heaven gate i will arrive,
We’re all admiring your power,
And for your glory I will strive.

When my life is turning tragic,
I count on you to cheer me up,
You always bring me some magic,
Implying to never give up.

Why would one be an atheist?
You have proved me your existence,
It is a fact that you exist,
I have no doubt of your presence.

Always carrying you in my heart,
Regardless of where I will land,
Thank you for keeping me unhurt,
It is your cause that I defend.

Daddy I love you evermore,
You will always be my father,
You are the one that I adore,
Thou art my lord and my savior.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Ode to God.

Daddy’s Boy

Heart 4 poetry — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 01:46:11 +0000

As a man was walking along
with his child one day,
He was very surprised
at what his boy had to say.
He looked to his father
with tears in eyes
and said, ” Please, Daddy, tell
me and tell me no lies.”
The man looked down
at his son’s pleading face
wondering what was wrong
as his heart began to race.
” Daddy, I saw you crying last night
and wanted to know
if you are alright.”
Suddenly, the man remembered
himself weeping that night
and turned to his child to say,
” Son, it’s alright.
I was only thinking back
on what we’ve come through,
and how lucky I truly am
to have boy like you.”
The young boy looked up
to his teary-eyed Dad
and said, ” And I am truly
Lucky to have you as my Dad.”

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Daddy’s Boy.

Bless the little child

Heart 4 poetry — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 16:34:50 +0000

Bless the little child
who has no clue why
that his Daddy is a drinker
and his Mommy had to die.
Bless the little child
who was constantly beat
cause her Mama lost her job
and couldn’t afford her drugs this week.
Bless the little child
who was abandoned on the street
Cause his parent didn’t want him
he was the little black sheep.
Bless the little child
who watched his Daddy die
and his Mommy left them long ago
now he only has his dog by his side.
Bless the little children
that we pass up every day
cause we are to busy to realize
they need a place to stay.
Go, and help the children
we usually pay no mind to
cause think about your life
then what they’ve been through.
God Bless The Little Child.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Bless the little child.

Last Night of Seventeen

PrairiePoems — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 03:49:43 +0000

I first called this poem “Yound Days” But one night when I swept the school house out
I found this on her tablet written before she left
fifty years ago
Last Night of Seventeen
So take it for the Title
She wrote the name for my poem fifty years ago

When prairie winds blow as the winter goes by
She sleeps there alone without me
And my fiddle keeps singing of a long ago summer
like the leaves in the cottonwood tree
Tho youth has gone by
And the young days are gone
Then she is here- with my fiddle and me
And we still are singing of the bright days of summer
The young girl and the fiddle and me

The last days of summer
When i was a young man
And her daddy asked me “when are you gunna wed?
I looked away across the snow, and I told him-
and i might-
“I’ll get a fiddle instead.”

Now the years have gone by
And the young days are gone
And the fiddle still hangs around with me
And the young girl is sleeping alone on the prairie
in her grave by the cottonwood tree

I remember the day and the cranky old man
and the girl who was still seventeen
and my fiddle keeps singing of a long ago summer
of school days and the sunshine and beam
Oh the years have gone by and the young days are gone
there are the songs on the prairie for me and the young girl is sleeping
thirty years along by the cottonwood tree

This was a pupil of mine when I was a teacher. I was her teacher fifty years ago.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Last Night of Seventeen.

Daddy Bought A Little Horse

David Pekrul — Sat, 23 Aug 2008 20:18:02 +0000

When Daddy bought a little horse,
I thought it strange; it was of course,
The thing just didn’t look quite right,
But I was small and not too bright.

Had leathery skin from head to toe,
But way back then I didn’t know,
That horses had a thing called hair,
Like puppies, cats and also bears.

And then there were those big wide teeth,
And scales like armour underneath,
A tail as long as seven feet,
And why’s my pony eating meat?

It looked more like a dinosaur,
As there it crawled upon the floor,
Or floated quiet on the pond,
And when I called, would not respond.

But still I love my little horse,
Though now and then I feel remorse,
I introduced it to my cat,
And now my horse is getting fat.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Daddy Bought A Little Horse.

Where does it go?

skyler — Sun, 10 Aug 2008 16:26:27 +0000

Where does it go?

When it grows old

Somewhere over the rainbow it waits

It flies with the sun

Through the burgundy moments

Of a day

And into the night

In the perils of silence

Where does it go?

When your soul changes

Have you forgotten

Can it fly like a flutterfly

With the colors of life

Swimming through its skin

Where does it go?

When its let you go

But you hold on

Like a roller coaster ride

Like your daddy’s hand

You try to find

Your momma’s presence

And all you see is

Your life’s essence

You’re holding on like the child inside you

Where does it go?

When you believe

Can it work this way

But the words you read are frail

Fragile and you’ll break

Look away and don’t dare

Fall with the rain

And when you see the pain

Take the map of its veins

Follow through to the daylight

So where does it go?

When its never really gone

—- Skyler

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Where does it go?.

I’m Five Years Old

David Pekrul — Sat, 17 May 2008 16:04:57 +0000

I’m five years old, but almost six,
My mommy says I’m big,
I play outside in lotsa dirt,
Because I like to dig.

My nana’s name is Granny Smith,
She gives me lotsa stuff,
My brother’s name is Jason Smith,
But he plays really rough.

And…um ,um ,um…and…you know what?
One time when I was small?
My mommy got me all dressed up,
And took me to the mall.

Do you like licorice bubble gum?
I think it’s really cool,
One time I blew this bubble?—–
——Next year I go to school.

My daddy says that pretty soon,
We’re going to Disneyland,
That always makes my mommy smile,
She says, “That will be grand.”

Some grownups talk all kinda strange,
I don’t know what they mean,—–
My sister likes this older guy?
I think that he’s fourteen.

I gotta go, it’s time for bed,
And Daddy gets real mad,
If I stay up real late at night,—–
My uncle’s name is Brad.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at I’m Five Years Old.

To Her Daddy’s Work Today

David Pekrul — Sun, 11 May 2008 17:07:18 +0000

“Daddy, Daddy, let me come to work with you today”,
She stood there sobbing as I drove away,
And in the rear view mirror I saw her crying as she waved,
And felt my heart break one more time again.

Everyday was just the same; I said she couldn’t come,
My days were busy and I hadn’t time,
To hold my baby on my knee and tell her how I felt,
Or have a cup of her ‘pretending tea’.

My days were full of things to do and people I must see,
With meetings, shops and sometimes interviews,
And she would have to understand that Daddy’s days were full,
And she would have to wait ’til he got home.

But even then there wasn’t time to listen to her dreams,
Or watch her as she showed me how she danced,
And when she went to bed and asked if I would read a book,
I said, “Another time and maybe then.”

Another day; I’m in the car and heading off to work,
And in the rear view mirror I see a face,
It’s no one that I recognize or anyone I know,
A woman with a tear upon her cheek.

And then the image changes and I see a little girl,
Who’s calling for her Daddy to be there,
To see the woman she’s become while he was working late,
And tell her that he loves her all the same.

Now it was just a vision, but I turned that car around,
And went back home to where my baby was,
And picked her up and held her tight and told her I was there,
And took her to her Daddy’s work today.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at To Her Daddy’s Work Today.