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Apr 2020
Dad
I never had a dad
But I had a man
who often said
“well done lad!”,
Who only came home
At weekends
To sleep in
A different bed.
My mum who in turn
Got close to her mother
After my father
got up and fled.
I mutter these words
like I still suffer
Oh, how I looked up to him
The big man
The big don
The preacher who tried
But just was a big con
He had a special way
With his uncontrollable eye
For every type of Barbie
To an average looking Cindy.
Yes he is my father
But not my very own dad.
Written by
Andrew
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