short poem, short story

a man, a myth, in my begins i looked to one man to follow, one man to give advice, and one man to show me how not to be,

i saw him leave a relationship, and come back, i saw the light out in his eye's, he tried when hope was gone, and when he cried for help, i saw love, heart and sincerity,

i saw hurt and darkness in him, and i saw the love of a grandfather who continously gave,

the steps he took, and the path he traveled gave him the love of twelve children, from the love of one woman, this is my legacy,

this man showed me how to fight the good fight for family, showed me how to go on when the struggle was to much to bare, and when the light was hard to see ,

i have know regrets, nothing to settle, and nothing to do over, you see i am a richards, one of many, one that will hang on to family and one who will give until the giving is gone,

olivia is my mother, my hope, my dream and my self of mother, she is what i see in the children that have entered my life, and the sense of you do what every it takes without sacrificing your self, of who you are, she is the tree that have spreaded her roots of six, and the line of blood that follows, she is a richards by all means and a brown by a woman who bored her,


yet she is the woman who married a man who gave her the name of henderson, and she has still said my name is olivia richards with pride, i am thomas richards child, we all are thomas richards, you see by this the name of him lives on, as i say i am deborah richards almanza, my name my story,