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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1847178-One-Last-Hand
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Death · #1847178
An elegy for a good friends' father, still and will never understand...
A coach to many young boys in baseball.
Molding them into better kids, we recall.

Helping them improve, a mentor to most.
The Maverick was never one to just coast.

Ready to retire from taxes and hard work.
We thought you would enjoy not being a clerk.

Lots of good memories and the bad so few.
Except for why we are now in this pew.

Bringing us closer in this time of unity.
Wishing we were now the ones with impunity.

One last round of poker with your son and friends.
We were the last to enjoy your dividends.

Playing Itsy Bitsy and other fun games.
Boasting and bragging about the biggest claims.

We played one last hand, then you had to fly.
Not knowing then it was our last goodbye.

Preparing to gather at His final table.
Assuring we move "all in," steady and stable.

We'll never understand, but shall endure.
It's time to move on, and that we ensure.


My friends father went home that night leaving us in good spirits.
Until the next morning when we found out he shot himself.
Please talk to someone if you don't feel like yourself.
The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
We've had way too much here in the past few years.
With help comes hope.



© Copyright 2012 Thaddeus Buxton Winthrop (franksimon at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1847178-One-Last-Hand