I came into your life ten years ago and for the longest time you just didn’t want to know.
I understood your feelings, but still it caused me pain.
On the day I entered your life, I changed what I am.
No more being selfish, time to be a better man.
For you deserved more than the life had gave you.

You were separated from your mother, by a cold and evil hand.
All I could do was watch, and weep where I stand.
All the while you hated me, and so you took a stand.
I wanted to be there for you, to support you, and to hold your hand.
They all told lies to you, about who and what I am.
So for your hatred, I get it, I truly understand.
In recent times you have grown into the finest young lady I know in all the land.
In recent times I’ve tried to show you, and make you understand,
Just who, what and why I am the way I am.
I feel we have grown closer, but that may just be where I stand.
I hope you grow to love me, and respect who I am.
But if you don’t, I get it, I truly understand.

I will always be where you need me, no matter where you stand.
Because to me you are my daughter, I hope you understand.
I had no part in making you, because I’m not your real dad.
If I was your father maybe a better life would be had.
Maybe not for you, but definitely for me.
These people tried to separate us and prevent us from this bond.
But no matter the circumstances, for you I will always try to be strong.
It brings me joy to see you succeed,
It tears me apart when I hear you weep.
I just hope that one day you’ll want to come to me.

Being a stepparent is a fate worse than life.
I spend my time feeding into relationships that will not stand the test of time.
I am here as support, no matter what you need.
But no matter what I do I’ll never be he.

He who made you,
He who abandoned you.
He who caused you pain.

No matter what he does, you love him all the same.
Whatever I do I am looked on with disdain.

Being a stepdad is the hardest of all work,
Using me and running to him,
It makes my feelings hurt.

Yeah he may have made you but he never put in the work.
I don’t want to take his place,
I just want peace.

For you to love me will make me forever pleased.

Teach your child
to plant a tree
than pluck one
that was never
her own entity
but its own

Teach your child
to make  a painting
of a flower
as a gift
than give a bouquet
that will die soon
or instead
teach her to
give a sapling
that will grow
into a memory
which will hold
much power

Teach your child
to question
than cower
to vain rules
and illogic
that steal her
playful affection
and her artless frolic

Teach your child
to climb trees
before the
ladders to
supreme echelon

Teach her
that when she collapses
she must stand up
with grace and poise
like the shining sun
for after
the night
is done
laying its darkness
it rises again
the sun

Teach your child
the colors of mankind
Yellow or Orange
Red or Brown
Black or White
to accept each one
everyone
without the division
of vanity
of power
or a crown

Teach your child
to create
her own meaning
of Love

Teach her to
listen to the story
of every tear
that bears grief
and to
speak aloud
to bespeak
wisdom and virtue
in brief

Teach your child
about the freedom
in and of the mind
before she rebels
to venture outside
with people
who care less
about her kind
but more about
filling the space
on a car seat

Teach your child
to believe
in possibilities
and have faith
in the certainties
of unlocking mysteries

Teach her
to fuel
her curiosities

Teach your child
values that were not
taught to
the crowd
then you will
stand a mother
full and proud.

When I was younger
I didn't understand the phrase
"I wish I'd never been born."
I thought it synonymous with
"I want to die."
In many ways it is.
Yet the phrase is less saying
"I want to die," and more saying
"I wish my lack of existence
wouldn't cause you any pain."
It's saying,
"only a few I love keep me here."
It's saying,
"I'd give up all I've lived to not have to go on any longer.
But if not for you,
I would choose an early out."
It's as near sighted
as any suicidal logic.
But the depth is something,
I've identified with in these
later days.

She hums a few nursery rhymes
Tiny tender  stomps
Swinging forward, swaying sideward
In her womb randomly, gracefully.

Little feet listen as her heart
Drum rolls the beat.
In tranquil nights, sudden kicks
Danced her to sleep.

Your method of parenting does not work.
You can't deprive a plant of light
and expect it to grow.
So why do you deprive me of happiness
and expect me to not drown
in sadness?

I like what I see
In my kids;
Others may say, They're like her's or his;
That's okay, but they don't see
The subtleties revealed to me.

They were listening when I spoke,
And now they hear other folks;
They were watching when I'd act
In sync with our social contracts.
Please and Thanks was our mantra,
Repeated now as personal dogma.

I didn't see they were watching,
Watch they did, and they were copying.
Believe me, I'm not being boastful,
If that's the case, I too am blameful
For anything that causes pain,
Though unintended, it's the same.

I'm so pleased with my kids,
And they aren't just like
Her's or his;
They're mine.
And I like what I see in their kids.

Do you like what you see
In mine?

Mom would say, “Your dad has friends,
Black friends on the police force, of course
We don’t set down to eat with them.
It wasn’t safe to say to her, “Ahem.
Did you hear what you just said?”
She’d swing one upside my head
And it would be like a garden gate
But with the weight of her stout arm
And the harm she could do with that
Sat me back down on my bony ****.

I wrote “black friends” but that is because
That was not the word she used, applause,
Applause. Clean it up for the publishment,
Don’t cause a resentment for the wrong reason.
It is never the season because I am white
And it’s never right for me to say the N word,
Haven’t you heard? They can, and I can’t
Even in a rant that describes the horror
Of living in a half right, all white world.

My fingers permanently curled into fists
So hard to resist saying to my parents
“You daren’t speak like that to the preacher
Or half of my teachers because they’d see
Just how deeply grained racism can be."
And both sides would take it out on me,
Just a kid, so I agree to hide what you did.
I agree to pretend you aren’t part of the problem;
Another prejudiced person, training me
Explaining to me how life really is right now.

You saying to me “Don’t put your lips there
On that fountain. Some N person might have, too!
And that made sense to you. Perfect sense.
You were that dense, that unquestioning, too.
Ready to do what your white society dictates
And making me into a swinging garden gate
If I don’t toe the line, and hold my confusion
While I pray for no contusion from the slap.
I hold hands in my lap and act submissive.
And I act like I accept all this as right
Because I am white. But, even though I won’t
Say a word at ten years of age, I don’t.

Poor little chunky girl
Never had a chance
Losing to the skinny girls
Alone at the dance.
Poor little skinny girl
It’s making her sick
When her godly classmates
Refer to her as "stick".

Poor little plain faced girl
They tease her for no makeup.
Poor overpainted girl
The social kids just break up.
Poor little not bright girl
They call her by names
Poor little brainy girl
They do the very same.

Poor little boy in glasses
They tease him mercilessly
Poor little nearsighted girl
The tease when she cannot see.
Poor little boy who stumbles
They tease because he’s no ****.
The same boy after school
Who has to work on a dock.

Poor little kids who suffer so much
Because there’s no cash for clothes;
Some of them live in camps so
They can’t always smell like a rose.
Poor little kids who are in trouble
Can expect no help from schools
Because the faculty is gun shy
From being sued by stupid fools.