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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1738592
This is a poem for my father.
He is dead,
to me at least.
He was never a father
or anything I needed him to be.
The sadness is gone,
leaving me with bitter rage,
a slow and steady flame,
ready to ignite a bomb.
He was supposed to care,
to write or at least call.
The most I see of him
is a child support check.
I will never again cry
for a man who doesn’t want
his daughter.
© Copyright 2011 Bri Hope (bri_hope16 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1738592-Jasons-Free-Verse