Three years. Gone. Eleven years later:
I stare up at his clueless face, all smiles for the photo. I wish I knew him, wish I'd had more time to let him go.
Three years was all it took, and now he's gone without a trace. Three years was what had took my father and his smiling face.
My mother pains to see him now, but I treasure the time - I have to study everything that made my father mine
I hide his face under the bunk so I can lie and see - the man, the dad, the husband that fate took away from me.
The tears I cry for him are not because I need to cry, but rather for the tears all of my family try to hide.
I can't say that I knew him well, three years was all I had. Although I don't remember him, I know I loved my Dad.
Yes, cancer is a horrid thing, it takes away so many. But even though his years were few, I'm glad that he had any.
And so I pray to those who still surround themselves with hate, who knows what tomorrow will bring, who knows what's in your fate?
Don't waste your time thinking of all the things you should've said, but think of all the things you're yet to do in life ahead.
I know that now he's gone and I won't have another glance, so please if you love someone don't give away every chance.
Three years. Gone. Eleven years later: gone.
By Pepper
