Disclaimer: I do not own this poem, it belongs to Michael Anderson. I don´t own PoM, =P
Rain. Finally! The sun had shone brightly ever since Skipper´s death and it had left his whole family and friends in a fog. Even though the days were nice. Private couldn´t bear walking out side, seeing the sun, hearing the birds, and smelling the flowers blooming. It was like the whole world didn´t care about his father´s death and were mocking him. So the young man was glad for gloomy weather. His wife Heather Cupid left him alone during these days. Now, Private was standing on Skipper´s and Private´s favorite mountain, looking into the thick soup of clouds. This was the place where Skipper had taken him when Private moved on from being just a private. He sighed, longing for those happy moments back when he was a child. Carefree, joyful, naïve and in Skipper´s arms.
As soft winds sweep away the days I recall my first bike, first wreck, Though teenage years were kind of rough, But there the line of fate was drawn, Please, Dad, today just hear my call,
I look back on life through a haze.
Remember playgrounds, parks and friends,
In childlike gaze that never ends.
The laughter in a game of catch,
Shall memory ever attach...
To innocence in youthful eyes,
Catching the ball to Dad's surprise.
Who picked me up, said, "What the heck?"
Convinced me to give one more try,
While, knees skinned, I forgot to cry.
Just the joy knowing he was there,
Making him proud my only care.
There was nothing I couldn't do,
My heart held fast that to be true.
I sure wasn't too big or tough.
You taught me to defend what's right
And never back down from a fight.
So I learned the hard way to stand,
Still, with each lump, I found your hand.
Drawing from you an inner strength,
And stubborn pride of equal length.
As though I blinked and you were gone.
I found myself facing the sun,
Not man, not boy, fatherless, one.
Eyes blinded by a void inside,
I could not live that you had died.
Alas finding it to be true,
I could do nothing without you.
I'm sorry that I dropped the ball.
My life is wrecked, my knees are skinned,
My emotions undisciplined.
I can't get up although I try,
Please don't be upset if I cry.
Though I can't fight what I can't see,
Please, Dad, say you're still proud of me.
I recall my first bike, first wreck,
Though teenage years were kind of rough,
But there the line of fate was drawn,
Please, Dad, today just hear my call,
While Private was in a world of his own, he felt something warm touch his cheek. The soldier jumped, only to see sun rays breaking through the clouds. It lit up the world with such a beauty, Private had to smile. And he knew that this time, it wasn´t mocking him. It seems more like Skipper comforting him…..