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Haylin
Poems
Oct 2018
Father
My father's voice was like a bomb
when he was clothed in anger
His words were driven by stress and pain
and he loved that pain like no other
In the wake of his wrath
grew flowers of sorrow
I felt my innocence die
and my maturity grow
I am my father's daughter
and I carry this fear
That I'll be a bomb like him
in the upcoming years
#father
#pain
#drinking
#bomb
#stress
#daughter
Written by
Haylin
21/F/Lost in this cruel world
(21/F/Lost in this cruel world)
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