You departed when I was so young I’ve no memories to speak of.
Mom assures me that you cared me, but spectral affections are not real love.

She says I have your sense of style, and worry much like you
But Dad to me is just an idea, no man to compare it too.

I lack you jet-black curls, and my face is much like Mom’s
Yet I feel no earthly comforts in the bottle or the psalms.

I missed you so desperately when I was young, addled by your death.
And while I’ve learned to live without, there’s sorrow in each breathe.

You see I’ve gained no solace, my suffering never done,
For I’m reminded of your image daily, it’s there in the speculum.


I’ve tried escaping many ways, but always return the troubles.
Shattered many a mirror in my attempts, gaining only ****** knuckles.

When my loved ones see me crying they think I offer masculine lies,
But I can assure all those around me, there’s something in my eye.