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Father Figure.
By Candace E. Samuel
I see him standing there
I know his mannerisms, his language,
his gestures, his tones
I can hear his voice ringing in my head
slow up and watch the curb
I can recount all his stories
I already know the ending but he loves
to tell them
I see his annoyance, his frustration,
his impatience
His forehead wrinkles as he twirls his
string from deep inside his pocket
I know his moods, mostle silly
sometimes stressed
He is kind, like his mother
He is brillant, like his father
He has secrets, I don't know them
I can hear his advice delivered with
emphatic tones
The same advice he gave all of us
He is loving, even when mistreated
He is generous, never wants for himself
He wants the best for all of us
When smiles its a little crooked and the teeth a little tiny
It's a smile I couldn't love more
I see him pat my mother's head and ask
us all
Isn't mom cute?
I see the special bond between my brother and him
There is an uncanny similarity in their
humor and their style
He is the most humble person I have ever met
Accomplishments abound that are never
mentioned
He is loyal, He is faithful, He is reliable
He is the ying to my mother's yang
I know every expression every smile
every pearl of wisdom
I can see it all...
But I still look at him and wonder
What is he thinking?
I wonder what he feels, what emotions
are within him
I wonder what he thinks of us
are we what he expected
I wonder what he thinks about his life
if he's scared about death
I wonder if he has favorites, do we all make him proud?
Or maybe none of us at all?
I wonder what his secrets are
and if I'll ever know
I know everything about him
and nothing at all
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