A poem I wrote for my dad in 2005

If you were here, I would not be writing this poem with you in mind
Conversations would have more meaning
And time would march with purpose rather than crawl on its belly
Like a sea lion aimlessly slithering through space
If you were here, you would be writing sharp discourse,
Probing pieces that tell us why genius is rare
Hacking at the jungle noise until the path is cleared of thorny bushes
No longer must we settle for a pillow of tears
Because the comfort of your knowledge embraces our fears
And when you speak, dark clouds part to a sun that scorches
Our innocence is demolished by the truths you speak
Hypocrisy exposed, dishonesty disrobes itself in shame
If you were here, try as they might, they would fail
Because deceit is only as good as the next lie
And the next lie, like candle wax, melts next to the tiniest flame
You were the fire then, how I wish your burning light
Is here to ward off the evil that grows in darkness.
If you were here, I need not write at all.

Note: Am sharing this with you because when I read it this afternoon, today on Indepedence Day, I thought it still captured how I feel, especially now with this ongoing effort to stop another despotic attempt by the Lower House to railroad changes to the Constitution.