Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Daddy's Diary

I sit here numbed in quiet loss
Confused and overwhelmed
For fate has sent an albatross
To life's ship I have helmed.

We buried father yesterday
In town by Macomb Wood
Enshrouded under skies of grey
Our congregation stood.

The wake was held at Macomb Hills
'Til it was six o'clock
Then home, and searching for Dad's will
I made myself take stock

To take my mind from father's loss
I cleaned and packed his things
His pipe, his rosary with cross,
And then I found what stings

I didn't know what I had found
But opened it with care
And read the pages barely bound
As if I shouldn't dare

This could not be the man I knew
Who taught me to play ball
Who showed me what a man should be
I thought he knew it all

So tucking my dread find away
I went in search of proof
And hurried out to Macomb bay
The house with broken roof

I pull the car into the drive,
Prayed that I had erred,
That someone here would be alive
That I was wrongly scared.

But as I opened up the door
And took a step inside
The path was blocked upon the floor
By bodies meant to hide.

The man I knew to be my Dad
Had been a killer, true.
How thoroughly we'd all been had
Not known what he could do.

For I found Daddy's Diary
When packing up his chest
I'm ruined to entirety
And, well, you know the rest.

Another spooky Halloween poem, this one a la Stephen King.


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