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kristyn-coral-boticPoems
I know now what I once and always knew Which is that I longed for a father I had one, but I didn’t you see When I was growing up I saw him But it wasn’t really seeing him Once a year on Christmas Eve Wasn’t and still isn’t very satisfying When I was growing up My presents from him would always be pink I always have hated the color pink But I didn’t want his presents But his presence He doesn’t know me at all When I was growing up I wanted him to be proud Of my grades, musicianship, even the mistakes I made and learned from When I was growing up I was thankful to have a mother to cuddle me through my first heartbreak But I craved for a slap on the back from my dad Telling me I’m still his little girl That I can’t date until I’m thirty or something I’ve had three heartbreaks so far But still nothing When I was growing up I was jealous of all my friends that were close with their fathers And if he comes to my graduation I don’t know why he’d even bother Four years, and he’s never seen a single concert I’ve been in over twenty Doesn’t know my favorite and best or worst subject Or that foolish boys claimed to have loved me When I was growing up I wanted my mom to get a boyfriend One to be there for me, toughen me up You know, send me to my room and holler I am growing up And I still want a man to call my father
0
Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 1:14 AM UTC
When I Was Growing Up
I know now what I once and always knew Which is that I longed for a father I had one, but I didn’t you see When I was growing up I saw him But it wasn’t really seeing him Once a year on Christmas Eve Wasn’t and still isn’t very satisfying When I was growing up My presents from him would always be pink I always have hated the color pink But I didn’t want his presents But his presence He doesn’t know me at all When I was growing up I wanted him to be proud Of my grades, musicianship, even the mistakes I made and learned from When I was growing up I was thankful to have a mother to cuddle me through my first heartbreak But I craved for a slap on the back from my dad Telling me I’m still his little girl That I can’t date until I’m thirty or something I’ve had three heartbreaks so far But still nothing When I was growing up I was jealous of all my friends that were close with their fathers And if he comes to my graduation I don’t know why he’d even bother Four years, and he’s never seen a single concert I’ve been in over twenty Doesn’t know my favorite and best or worst subject Or that foolish boys claimed to have loved me When I was growing up I wanted my mom to get a boyfriend One to be there for me, toughen me up You know, send me to my room and holler I am growing up And I still want a man to call my father
kristyn-coral-botic
Written by
kristyn-coral-botic
American
Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 1:14 AM UTC
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