Well, I got bored again, but it is 3 in the morning. I really did this for a poetry contest. And it sucks majorly.
It's still raining
Oh my son
What have I done to you?
The last time I glanced at your face
I saw your eyes
The look on your face
But I
I pushed you away
To protect you
I should have held on
Grasp you tightly
Never let go
But I did
Uttering the last words
You will ever hear
From my lips
I should have heeded them
Not you, my son
I ran from you
To quench my lust for battle
I never realized
How much I loved you
Or how you loved me
But I felt it
I could feel your eyes
Your pain
Your hate
Your love
And I was saddened
I taught you everything
All that a hunter should be
Powerful
Knowledgeable
Cunning
Ruthless
But never what a man should be
I had not even given the thought of it
Till this moment
In my last seconds
I should have listened to my words
Oh Boba
I will always watch you
Always love you
And I will share in what you do
Let my end be a lesson
This bitter irony taunts me even in death
"Stay back"