Shane wrote this poem for his father. But Tim has never seen it.

i am so young

and you are not

you are so hard

which i am not

the hard – really

doesn’t suit me. dot.

that’s why i am quiet

but you are not

no, you are loud

and i am not.

we were one and one

makes zero

nothing in the sky

nothing in the fire

everyone his own horror

tangled up in his own desire.

my neck is cracking

it’s cracking so loudly

i am looking for you

my only bride

half me half crony

but the picture is graying.

he was so scared

and i am too

i was the angst-child

now i am split in two

but he wants to sing

jump and build castles



and emotions missed.

i don’t want that

‘cause that’s not me

i don’t want that either

nor can i longer

do and pretend

love and be silent

of service to him

i need some peace.

so that the neck

no longer cracks

so that the laughter

can come back

so that the guards

stop admonishing me

telling me

to bury my emotions

every little need that is buried within me

as if the death of heart

would free me

and still:

time has gone by.

time has gone by.

from now on

it’s all the same.

i am so soft

and you are not

you are so hard

which i don’t like

the hard – really – suits me not

i am the gentle

until the light leaves its candle.