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Not Like My Father
by Joe CramerWrite a poem she said,
Isn't that what you do?
Here's a pen, scrap of paper,
Coin some verse so true.
It just doesn't work like that I said,
Trying to vainly explain how the muse descends.
I looked into her eyes, she was pleading
With me to try to understand what she was feeling.
Can't you just do it she begged?
I must admit that I failed at the task.
The bar was too dark, my brain too scrambled
To ever get something down on paper.
Instead, I managed to take her home,
But I didn't rape her,
Not like my father did to my mother. 01/05/2008 Author's Note: I was out the other night.....
Posted on 01/05/2008
Copyright © 2026 Joe Cramer
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 01/05/08 at 10:31 PM ...boy, joe, you scrambled me...like barbara said this is quite a heavy piece lot of flitting like ali's butterfly, a gut punch here and there...good write, peace, chaz |
| Posted by JD Clay on 01/05/08 at 10:52 PM My Father never wrote like that either. Great senario, surprise ending. Good stuff, Joe! |
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