It’s this Sunday. I should’ve started thinking about this earlier.
I’m trying to write a father’s day card.
Coming up with words is pretty damn hard.
I know he’s given me more than I know.
How can I make the words spill and flow?
I could make a list and it’d be long,
And the sentiment might not seem that strong.
I could make a poem but it might be bland,
I don’t want to pen up stuff that’s not grand.
I could draw how I feel, if I knew how,
But 7-year-old me draws better than me now.
I could send a song but I can’t sing,
And the postcard couldn’t record that thing.
Oh man, how is this so tough?
I’ll just call him and tell him stuff.
But I’ll have to keep it not too feely,
I’ll cry if the words flow too freely.
I even get teary if I think about it,
Telling Dad how much he taught and did.
It’s a weird tear, it only makes me smile
And makes my mind go back a big dial.
It’s hard to do anything when holding back,
Be it tears or laugh or any kind of jack.
Bah, I’ll rhyme and just make it kinda good,
Hope that I make myself understood.