Father.

I’ve walked

This bridge

So many times

With so many thoughts

I could make them all rhyme.

Yet not once have I felt

This might be the last time.

I always talk

About reality and dreams

How something actually is

Or how something just seems.

They say pain and gain

Or go insane

It’s not “in my head”

It’s engraved in my brain.

Did I wait too long to let him go

Was it his time?

Or am I the one to blame?

I’m so sick and tired

Of being so wired

Now I’m chasing the high

Because I can’t believe I let him die.

I know I’m not coping

I’m just desperately hoping.

He’ll reappear

And not just disappear

His voice is all I hear

I just want him here.

-Kelly Wiman

Martin Julian Wiman

1/16/1954-3/12/23