Standing watch lifted my block.

So I write this post, not from in front of my computer, but in a small note pad. As I stand a not-so-vigilant watch on top of a barge in the middle of a shipyard. Don't worry, I don't have to be alert for this watch, only present. Shot gun slug about my shoulder, ammunition and radio safely secured to my guard belt. (I'm not even suppose to be on watch today!)
So anyway, I was thinking, because watch is the best time to do that, and I got inspired to write a poem. As I began writing though, something came over me, a feeling of absolute familiarity. I could not quite place it though, which got me brain storming, trying to figure it out. Not realizing that I was still writing until I was finished, I read what was on the paper. To my amazement, it was a recap of an encounter that happened not to long ago, though I pushed out of my head, the details were more vivid than at the time of the...reunion if you will. Written in the form of a poem, I'm not quite sure how poetic it really is. It seems to me, more of a story, or monologue. I just typed it the way that I wrote it. Here it is. You be the judge.


Deep within this shell of a man,
the child cries out.
Longing for that,
which he most desires.
Yet seems to be
incapable of attaining.
Answers to questions
he cannot find to ask.
Reconsiling that,
which he has never known.
The man leans on
his jet black pick-up.
More for support
than for comfort,
as though his trembling knees
may give way any minute
to the mass of the nervous fool.
"Hello" the hesitant
child within asked.
"Scotty? Is that you?"
Speaking to his father for
the first time since he was 8.
More than 17 years before.
How withered and frail
the old man sounded.
Hardly the gruff resonant
voice the boy inside recalled.
Had it been so long?
How time did blind side this
pitiful, decrepit man.
He thought.
Gaining confidence.
The young man reclaiming
his footing & sturdy visage.
"We're all great!"
Confidence & valor
coming full force now.
"Accomplished and successful in our endeavors!"
"I'm in the military, studying
to become a police officer.
then maybe a detective."
A wide grin appearing on his face
knowingly at his father's
distaste for the law.
At that moment the vigorous
man could not, nay, would not
be stopped.
The boy within dispelled.
Seeming as a distant memory
of days long past.
"My mother raised us well,
& ON HER OWN!"
There were no questions
the man needed answered.
He knew this now.
Only answers for him to give,
in the form of accusations.
The man said goodbye.
Knowing he never would,
nor would he ever want to,
speak to this old fool, ever again.
His half-sister,
(The illegitimate daughter
of his bastard father.)
And his aunt.
(Sister to the fool.)
Piled against the door to the house.
anxiety running through them
Like a mountain brook
In the spring time.
Fed by the melting snow.
He put the phone away and turned.
Starting for the waiting pair.
They were upon him he took on step.
"HOW'D IT GO?!?"
Tears rolling down their faces
as if in the middle of an April rain.
Responding with a wry
grin on his face.
"Well...it went well."