A poem about my father's death.

[Joekababazae]

He died in March of 1995. I was almost a year old, but he died very suddenly. This is a poem about the night of his death.



A family happy, a recent birth, an existence finally made complete.

A wife, a husband, two daughters, a son, a future hopeful, a fate they would meet.

A pleasant occasion, a party to enjoy, unaware of the events to unfold that night.

Some food he consumed, an unpleasant feeling, to find his children he went out of sight.

The screen was alight, attention was close, the volume was loud, they could hear no more.

Soon he approached, decline of health rapid, a futile struggle, he banged on the door.

Ignored were his pleas, his throat quickly closing, strength failing fast, he took his last breath.

He lay there unnoticed, not far from his children, alone and scared he soon greeted death.

A violent discovery, sobs of anguish, too shocked for words, unending screams.

A funeral not felt, a young life cut short, a cruel abrupt end to a family's dreams.