I lost the feeling of deep respect
it slipped away and hid in shame.
His precious life he could not accept.
Choices made to sit and reject
movement, laughter, and friends that remain.
Is that when I lost sincere respect?
He was a man of quiet affect.
Words not spoken. No one to blame.
His small life he could not accept.
Dreams of blue oceans sat like an object
on a shelf filled with aches and pain.
I miss feeling deepest respect.
The chair and morphine could only reflect
future insanity. Its seed became
the sad life he could not accept.
How hopeless you felt with a hand direct
on the gun pointed at your brain.
I lost my feeling of loving respect
For my father whose life he would not accept.
