• It was the month of December,
    That I will always remember,

    When my beloved father had died,
    I was the boy who had not cried,


    The night of his wake,
    I could not shake,

    A feeling that was haunting my sleep,
    And the reason that I did not weep,

    Before he had died,
    I looked in his eyes,

    The words that he said,
    were hurting my head,

    He complained of the cold weather,
    and how he would hate it forever,

    He said he loved being warm,
    and watching the birds swarm,

    "son I love you" he said with his last breath,
    I then sensed my beloved fathers death,

    And My mother ran in with tears in her eyes,
    knowing never again will my father rise,

    The funeral day,
    I had nothing to say,

    He was a wonderful dad
    and he never got mad,

    At his imperfect son,
    who did nothing right for anyone,

    tears were falling in the snow,
    As i saw the sun show,

    it's rays warmed the earth,
    Almost like a rebirth,

    for the man who loathed the cold,
    and who's death was foretold,

    No one cried there wasn’t a sound,
    as the boy who couldn’t cry fell to the ground,

    everyone watched as the boy crawled to the grave,
    and no one did stop there emotions concaved,

    He felt his fathers face and the land was anew,
    he cried " Rest in peace father, I love you too"