My Father
I wasn't asked to write this poem
I am doing it willingly
He has put us through everything
He has developed the illusion
That everything is okay
He doesn't know how I feel
I hope he does one day
I hope his heart gets crushed
How can his life get any lower
How can he live in this hour
When he knows how many lifes he has destroyed
It'll take years for the flames to fade
The flames of hate that burn in my heart
He is the kindling to those flames
Poking the flames with a stick
He has put us through this for far too long
I think it's time to end this
I wish it was that easy
Say it's over and have it disappear
All the pain that he has caused
I see him being taken out
So weak and fragile under the weight
The weight of our hate sitting on his shoulders
I take pity on him
The one that can't enjoy life
Because for every sorrow there are a million joys
There are many oppurtunites in life
And he, the one who can't see that
Now a grown man
Still can't see
Aren't the bruises clear upon my face
I have to wear a mask to school
So the teachers won't know
What he has done
You wonder who I am talking about
Some stranger I thought up
No...I wish that was what it was
This man is my father
My sad, alcoholic, brain-dead, disgusting father
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My life
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