Life is so unfair

When you realize the dare

That was wasted in despair

Because something isn't there.


As I sit alone and cry

You question the reason why

And my troubled soul can't lie

It's for the days gone by.


It's for all the people I've met

And for all of those; not yet

For all the things I regret

And the times that I'll forget.


It's for the one who shaped the way

Who was honest up to the day

That this cruel world took him away

When he had every right to stay.


It's for the man that was so strong

Who knew the difference between right and wrong

Whose noble life should have been long

Because he prepared for it all along.


I cry because it's unfair

When I realize the care

That was beautiful and rare

And because he's just not there.


For Frank J. Pokladowski Jr.

~Yvonne Renee Moore Pokladowski

This poem is about: 
My family


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