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ZL Sep 2014
daddy was a lot of woman typa man

mama was fast
a one night stand

drugs; they had in common
crack was in demand

heard he was crazy, so she ran

I fell from hell

wasn't given no hand

I got up anyway
*and tall I stand
Harley Hucof Aug 2014
DAD
He is the kind that is hard
And hides his feeling inside

He is the type that is kind and devoted to grant his family the best life

He is the kind that doesnt know how to show his love
And mask it behind being strong

He is the kind that wont let you see him cry

He is the kind that had sacrificied everything for my sister and me
The kind that has always supported me mentally

He is the kind that is protective
If you dont know him you might find him aggressive

He is the type that goes to church every week
The type that used to kiss me before i sleep

Its true that sometimes we didnt agree
Lots of fights happened between him and me

Still my only wish is for him to be proud of me

I love him and maybe never showed him

Maybe i grew up to be somehow like him

I love him and regret lots of things

I should have understood all this since i was a kid

He is the type that a son would be proud of to have

He is my Father
And i thank God for that..

Words Of Harfouchism
He stares all day out into space,
looking for she whom does not show.
A frightened look adorns his face,
Is something missing, he should know?

He is not sure, why or who
these strangers are who do converse.
He doesn't know quite what to do,
why is he here? Why have a nurse?

They look at him with loving eyes.
Smiling glances flow across.
What do they seek and what's more, Why?
He does not know, he's at a loss.

These souls have so much love to share,
why are they pointing it his way?
He only wants his Mother around
and she should be here any day.

He feels sorry for such woes.
So lets them smile and talk away.
Secretly he does wish they would go,
he wants to go outside and play.

They say to him “Well bye then Dad.”
It sends such shudders down his spine.
He thinks that they must all be mad.
Call me Dad, I'm only nine.

They wave their hands as off they go
and he waves back, too be polite.
Though memories will never show
and he will not live through the night.

At his grave side his family mourn,
so sorry that he went this way.
It's hard forgeting children born,
and showing them no love display.

But as they pray they should look above
and as the sun lights, sullen day.
They might see looking down with love
the personage for whom they pray.

Disease all gone, with clear mind,
the one that earlier thought them mad.
With caring heart and thoughts so kind,
the spirit of there “Dear Old Dad”.
The loss of a parent is bad but multiplied immensely when the parent has no knowledge who you are.
2012
Noder Aug 2014
I don't have daddy issues
I have issues with daddy.
Morgyn Harris Aug 2014
You wrap me in your arms much like a father
I feel safe, like mine never made me feel
You were never perfect, but you tried, never once calling me a bother
The hurt he embraced on me, you tried so hard to heal
What were once deep and open wounds, are now only scars
The impact is still there, reminding me of the pain but it no longer stings
I used to believe in nothing, but now in shooting stars
You took me in as your own, let me discover my own wings
You helped me find my way, became my father, you were always more than just a teacher
Summer came way too soon, and I had to fly away from the one love I knew was true
I love you always, as you do me, this goodbye has brought tears and blur
Remember I'll never stray too far, for I know my heart will always bring me back to you.
Dad.
EAG Aug 2014
What if I turn into you?
What if the hatred I put towards you
the ugly and the horrific outbursts
are just because you are me
and I am you?
What if I become the drunk?
What if at around 2 am
I am singing to you and all my other dead friends
and crying mercilessly?
What if I judge my kids and make them hate me?
What if I turn out to be you?
We shall wait.
Travis Durston Aug 2014
We used to be close you and I. Always laughing, playing, bonding. Then one day it all changed, you weren't there anymore.
My importance to you faded like a tattoo, slowly becoming insignificant in your life. I was just another tool to help you get what you wanted.
One second I was your world, the next I was a burden.
Years passed where we grew apart, you were no longer my father. You weren't even a friend. I can't find a word to describe what you are to me anymore: boss, coworker, aquantence?
No matter, your real son will always make you proud.

I am and always will be just a burden to my father.
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