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Prodigal Dad
By Steven Fales | August 1, 2010
Another poem I wrote about my role and experience as a dad in recovery. For all estranged fathers doing the best they can in the midst of extreme circumstances whether self-created or not.
Prodigal Dad
Salt Lake City, November 2007
I’m weary—
The world has beat me up.
I’m hungry, broke, and cold.
My children now are growing up—
As I am growing old.
To top it off—
I’m tired and sick.
It’s lonely by myself.
I’ve tried to empty out my stuff
And find a dusty shelf.
I had such dreams for all of us
But how to ever tell—
The love I felt for them while in
My long dark night in hell?
But dawn came and I then awoke
And with the coming light
I found the signposts on the road
That helped my life aright.
Mile by mile I stumbled home
To find my wife and kids—
And to my sadness there they were
Nearly on the skids.
And then I realized my job
To help them all I could.
They need a dad.
And here I am.
It’s time now to make good.
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