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"