My old man

He writes letters 

He gives a firm handshake 

He doesn’t put up with bullshit 

He works with his hands 

Still lives in his traditions

Doesn’t know how to use an iPhone

He is my old man 

Who taught me everything I know today

His ways mixed with my new ways 

Is what shapes me 

An old man

But so much more 

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Point of Origin (Poem Story draft)

When a loved heartbeat stops beating

It can change someone

I know

It changed me

My heartbeat still beats

It’s hard, but it keeps beating

But one heartbeat will never be beating

Look on my chest

His lovely face is forever stained onto me

It’s all I could do

My dreams, and idol is forever dead in the ground

Some days just breathing or walking is hard

I wear the cross around my neck

But even he can’t help at times

I keep pushing through

I’m eighteen

I’m a man now

If only my pop could see me now