You Know. Poem by Terry Collett

You know,
my son,
the road I tread,
the dark tunnels
that lead away,
that close up doors
at each new day.

You know the words
I speak to you,
the words I write,
and try to shape
to say how
your death
has pained
my heart,
that tragic event
that time has sent.

You know
my dark hours;
the black dog
at my heels
snapping and growling,
its deep down bark,
its tearing teeth
sharp as any shark.

You see I sleep
in drugged up doze,
that each new day
I think of you,
and your sad demise,
always there in mind,
before my tired eyes.