He died worshiping the Devil's flames
Lived his life chasing adulteress dames
Alcohol was the love of his immoral life
Come home only to beat his loving wife
In truth do I miss my dear old dad
The thought strikes me quite mad
Do I have regrets the evil man died
Only that I was never old enough to whip his hide
On this day do I not praise Fatherhood
Good loving father's I bow my head as I should
I will never be like my father nor he like I
Because I know my kids won't be cheering when I die
Isn't it ironic the one job he held a coal truck driver?
And for eternity he will be shoveling coal the conniver.
Forgive me this bit of bitterness
I usually write a poem on special day
On my father there was nothing good I could say