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Poem for Pops

My pops, broke as he is

Would always ask me if I needed money

No disrespect, hear me out

My dad is the kind to leave a voicemail everytime he calls

Just to tell you to call him back

The kind to stand outside Wal Mart

With bell and red donation bucket

Centered within eye of Winter

Blizzards burying boots with every blink

As watery eyes wearily winced

Nose running, frantically searching for heat

As fridget fingers shook jingles

Making sure wage’s minimum maximized presents under tree

Contentment contained if nothing remained of his gain

He’s a provider

My pops showed me patience

Within the hospital of forbearance

A thunder strike could hit and burn all his clothes

While US Cellular shuts off his phone

And find himself repeating to each of his three kids

“Clean this mess on the floor”

And still not raise his voice with a volcanic eruption

He taught me to see worth in worthlessness

Whenever weary legs met accommodation of my passenger seat

Eyes joyfully connect with cupholder as pennys sat in their, joyfully

For they knew that he would happily adopt them from my neglect

Saying in puzzlement, “how can people not see how much your worth?”

Never ashamed to scrape up dirt to make beautiful mountains

My dad taught me to be committed

Never one to be a passive parent

Nor bought into that “do whatever makes you happy” rhetoric

But showed me that holiness shouldn’t be holey

And outs shouldn’t be options if you’re in

No matter if feelings constantly debate truth

Chase what is right, not what feels right

My pops slows down my fast pace life

Like city transportation drivers that know my dad’s rugged, up point thumb well

He knew that I was always a great mile runner

But when needs go noticed, be ready to drop baton of busyness

And go a marathon for others

He was the first one to show me that we’re surrounded by clouds of witnesses

So thunder will storm from tongues of those whose stomachs carry dark clouds

And it will feel like their words will reign over my race

But keep pace with perseverance whether or not they try to entangle you

My pops taught me to keep headstrong and heart soft

To never just follow a man for his authority

But by his fruit formed on fig branches

Never be afraid to sit motives down for question

Ask, out of compassion and brotherly love

Not out of false excitement of shaming

My pops isn’t the brightest mind

But has an integrity that illuminates

He may be confused when you ask him what trail mix is

But when life goes nuts

Hey knows if he plants knees like seeds to floorboard

The sun will shine rays into darkness drying him out

My pops, broke as he is

Doesn’t lack his lack attack identity

For He knows his name is held in a higher Treasury
Posted 06/19/16
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