Untold Stories

A coworker asked why I have the same drink

In that old koozie, on my desk, everyday

I did the best I could to answer her quickly

But there are some things I find hard to say

How could I tell her it held my dad’s drink of choice

And each day he carried it to work, before he passed

Some days, deep inside, I fear I'm forgetting his voice

So instead, I just pour me a glass.

What do you imagine she would think if she knew

That long ago that old koozie was his

Although it's now faded, it was his favorite shade of blue

That's his name scribbled there on the rim

It reminds me of days so much easier than these

When just his hug and smile could change my mood

That old koozie helps to put my mind at ease

When my love for life is a bit skewed

So I say with a smile, as I hold it in my hands

It's a little hug from my dad, for me and my drink

A memento of sorts, of an unforgettable man

A part of him that lives on, I said, with a wink

She smiled that smile and said, oh I see

Looked around and then went on her way

I guess it doesn't matter what she thinks of me

I mean, what could she say anyway...