Stan

By Parson Thru

Wed, 30 Jan 2013
  • 1987 reads
6 comments
 

My old dad, at 82,
was one of the last Stans I knew.
Now they're starting to
produce them again.
The faces change
but it's all the same.
Life goes on.

You know, dad,
nothing takes away the pain.
You just get used to
carrying it.
Everything changes
but stays the same.
And life still goes on.

What's in a name?

Certificate U
Poem
Parson Thru III
Miscellaneous

Comments

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
What indeed, PT? It's all here though, succinctly put...in these few, poignant lines. Tina;-)

 

Submitted by Bee on
'nothing takes away the pain, you just get used to carrying it' - how true. Good poem. Bee
Bee

Submitted by Parson Thru on
Hi Tina and Bee. Thanks. That was the line that came to me in the car this morning, funnily enough. The rest of it's just padding. Thanks for reading. x

Parson Thru

Submitted by MistakenMagic on
Love the sound-patterning in this one, PT. A beautiful tribute which I'm glad to have read, well done! Magic xxx

 

Submitted by Highhat on
I suppose Dad or son are as good a name as any.

Submitted by Parson Thru on
Hi Magic and Pia. Thanks for reading. Still fiddling!You're right Pia. Must ring my son for a catch-up. Thanks for dropping by. x

Parson Thru