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He’ll Be Fine

You are 13 years old,
So you shrug it off
And turn to your room, your haven,
As your father stumbles to his.
‘Heatstroke, maybe’, he says
He’ll be fine

You are riding in an ambulance;
It would be fun,
But you are alone
With your father in the back
He’ll be fine

You are sitting next to a hospital bed
Clutching a clipboard
You try to focus on the form,
And every time your father does not answer
You are surprised
He’ll be fine

You are 13 years old,
So you shrug it off
Even though you father is still away.
He lives of course,
You were never quite able to imagine otherwise,
So he’ll be fine
Won’t he?
:iconladyarbuthnott:

Author's Comments

Don't know if this is the right category, but oh well.

Poem for my Creative Writing paper, written for an exercise based on anecdotes. So this is actually a true event!

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May 21
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