Thursday, April 12, 2012

Common Ground

Once there was a chance
for you and I,
a chance that we could meet
on common ground,
perhaps find a small bit
of mutual understanding,
a place not too much me
and not too much you,
a place somewhere
in the middle,
but now that chance
is long gone,
time has grown short,
you are where you are
and I am where I am,
with too much space
in-between,
still we had some moments,
playing catch in the backyard,
fishing in Canada;
you were my dad
and I was your little boy.

I sometimes wish it could
have been different,
somehow better,
something more,
but it was good enough,

thank you dad.
.
.

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