James

James
James doesn’t know his dad
But james is never sad
James is rarely mad.
James has uncles and a mother and grandparents
So quit starin’
At how trashy his mother dresses
Quit stressin
Over whether
He will ever
Acquire the blessing
Of knowing his own father
Why bother?
He also enjoy’s a friendly game of roundball
I pray when he acclimates fame I’m somebody he speaks fond of.
Round of applause for mr. james whoe doesn’t know his father
But will go farther in his life
Than anyone might
Imagine or fathom
Whether it be tippin or tappin
Hip hoppin or rappin’
I know for a fact that he’ll make it happen
No longer askin ,

….Where’s my father?

Sadly, the sterling community lost a young man to suicide this past Sunday by the name of James Campbell. Though I didn’t know this young man his death greatly affected people I am close with. Coincidentally I wrote a poem titled James the following Monday about a young man in my class who at the tender age of five has already accepted the fact that he “doesn’t have a father”. I devote a lot of one on one time to this boy because I know from first hand experience what it’s like to have questions about your dad. What is ironic is that I was told in Mr. Campbell’s note that he left his mother he explained that he just wanted to be close to his father again and that it wasn’t her fault. What are the chances? My father died when I was six months. Mr. Campbell lost his father when he was approximately three or four years old. So this poem is tentatively titled “James” in memory or James Campbell in dedication to my father (as always) and to my favorite student James who believes he doesn’t have a dad. Let this short prose I’m offering you strike a chord with you and act as some sort of consolation to the issues we face today as young men and women who are fatherless.

D. Diggs.