Desk – A Poem for My Father (Video)

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It’s been awhile since I’ve recorded a poetry video, here’s a new spoken word piece:

Desk – A Poem for My Father

Sometimes we’re the ones to hold ourselves back, that was me with this poem. But suppression helps no one, while expression does. To express ourselves is as essential as breathing. You never know who you can help by sharing your story while you’re living it.

Desk – A Poem for My Father

There’s this desk in my room that I barely even use
even though our four hands spent more than two hours
putting it together in tune,
making sure we properly twisted every single screw
that simultaneously tightened our bond,
who knew?

Who knew that until this day your laughs would linger
in the center of my room,
x-marks the spot on my rug where you ate your first plate of food,
the same place you clasped your palms and kneeled in prayer too,
so now when I lay my lows before I lay my head
it’s in remembrance of you.

You the one who showed me what it means to be strong
what it means to sacrifice, like telling us you’d make it through
when you knew you were dying all along,
what it means that you instilled to say see you later instead of so long,
what it means that in your poetry
you openly right, I mean, wrote your wrongs,
and the fact that it was me to whom you sang your favorite song,
which became your last song,
which became the first song my heart cried.

Now every time I close my eyes
and water sprouts while my soul sighs,
it somehow transforms my rain into sunshine,
and somehow I can see you smile through the clear skies,
so I sit back down at my desk,
look out the window
and wave hi.

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