The screams they returned. The fears, they returned. The weaknessess, they never left. 1
He sits up from his bed, a lonely figure. The epitome of what one never wants to become. The red digital numbers flash "12:00, 12:00, 12:00", as he rubs his knuckles over his temples and exhales. Where the hell did he go wrong? The question resounds like ten thousand symphonies.2
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Was it that he drove her to cheat? Was it that he gave her up for a quick blow? He gave up a queen for a whore. He lived his whole life destined for mediocrity. Lazy, self-concious, a bit lacking where it counted, he never was very manly. The thoughts echo, but he ignores them. He had self-esteem issues. He really tried his best. (I hope you pick up my sarcasm)4
Add this to his list of excuses.5
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Two failed marriages and five kids later he is invisible. He might as well be dead because he is dead to those he abandoned. He sits up, in a second rate motel room, where a faded picture sits on the nightstand. He squashes a cockroach that scatters over his bare feet. What time is it, really? He checks his Wal-Mart Casio,it's 4:00 am. He can't sleep, and good for him. He must be so lonesome.7
His youngest is 13, his daughter is 15, and Nate is 18. His oldest a man, more man than he could ever be. 8
How can he live with himself, knowing he is what he is and does what he does? No writes, no cards, no calls, he wallows in self-pity and regret, but too damn lazy to change. 9
He pulls on undersized pants and torn blue slip on shoes with no socks. He trudges out to his diesel and fires it up. Were he half as good a man as he was a driver then he would've been at my graduation.10
He slides a crinkled issue of "Jugs" into the floorboard next to a tattered King James Bible. While in between shifting gears, he opens a can of deviled ham and eats it like so.11
He listens to talk radio just loud enough to attempt to drown out the convicting voices, to take his mind off of the kids back home. The road must keep him occupied and give him a sense of escape from his screw-ups. He up-shifts and travels on.12
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Sometimes I wake up and stare at myself in the mirror and see every ounce of him in myself. In my failures I see his face, in my regrets I recall his very actions. In every gross habit I am reminded that I am swimming in that same nasty, green, mossy gene pool.14
When I kiss the woman I love, I know that dad kissed mom, too. He was 21, she was 19. Three years. I shiver. Three years between us. They married, then ran headlong into sexual dissatisfaction and infidelity. He careened full speed no brakes into mediocrity. One bad choice after another.15
When I drove my clutch I would think of him upshifting his jet-black Ford Ranchero. I idolized him that summer. Hard to believe that was 7 years ago. I was 13.16
I can never be like him, one man alone.17
Author notes
Part speculatory, part what I feel. Sometimes I wonder what he's doing...this is my outlet.
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Hey, Wow. This is definately a powerful write. You make me feel like I'M there, experiencing what you've gone through and are still going through, u rock!
zac -
This is very well written, dear. Your very best peice. I love it. You will never be him. You're a wonderful person. You shall grow into a kind hearted, honest man. Much like you already are. I love you. This story rocks. i'm lovin it.
And now my suggestions: the this first sentence needs a comma. Consider changing "he never was very manly" to its own sentence. Third to last paragraph "no brakes" needs a comma before and after. -
Hey Ang... Yeah- I don't want to hurt Cara like dad hurt mom... You are correct, we have got a lot in common. I love Cara. I love God... I even love my dad, but I don't ever want to be like him. Cara says I'm not because I have a good heart and I work hard.
Thanks for your comment.
Your friend,
Chad -
damn good.
chad. i loved this.i know exactly where youre comming from. i look in the mirror and see my father in myself also. i hate it. im glad to hear im not the only one.. we have a lot in common chad. im here if ya need me. lylab. i hope i dont hurt tay like my dad hurt my mom... -
Thank you for your advice. These "issues" cannot be put behind me when they continually arise. He knew God, grandma loved od but he slipped into apathy.
I don't hate him, I pity him. That is how I feel toward him. Pity. He is lonely, if he should show up again, I would hug him, we'd laugh and talk. He lies, and has been gone so long. I am curious as to what he is doing. This poem isn't angry, it is full of pity. Pity and curiousity.
cHAD -
Your imagery was fantastic, and so is the style in which this is written. A write to touch hearts everywhere.
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very good!
You are a very talented writer.It sounds as if you might have some issues with your father that need to be put behind you.You can really get maddest at the people you love.Forgiveness brings healing.IF this is your dad,I would say -pray for him,because he's lost and he must be miserable.Try to let the past got and go for your future.I think you have lots of potential.It's a big world out ther.It's too big to face without Love. -
GREAT READ
WOW I CAN REALLY SEE HOW YOUR FEELING HERE THIS IS A WONDERFUL PIECE OF WRITING, VERY DESCIPTIVE, GREAT I LOVE IT AND PLEASE KEEP ON WRITING.
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