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"fatherless" poems
Have you ever watched the light, The diamonds of the mind, Fade out of focus never to return? Felt your forefathers disappear From your reality only to haunt You in the dark of night when you Are all alone and feeling like You're out of time? Marched down the aisles of faces That are burned into your eyelids, So whenever you close your eyes, To try and be alone to escape, With a weight in your hands And on your shoulders? Well then join me, Brothers and sisters new and old, Welcome to the fatherless. Welcome to the ranks, With tired eyes and weary hands, We are joined in mourning. Welcome to the fatherless.
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Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 1:23 AM UTC
Welcome to the Fatherless
Could it be that I substitute lustful infatuation for love? or mistake an act of kindness for trust? Using his words to define me, i mean refine me, leaving the real me in the dust Can you really blame me for being attracted to someone who shows interest in my existence Someone who is persistent, consistent and whose smile breaks my resistance It's a real feeling I get of satisfaction through common conversation of nothingness The willingness to waste time with me means something to me if not everything for me because time can not be given back Sorry your interest in my existence was nonexistent, guess in the 90's being a father was wack. Respect from hoes was worth more than respect from your daughter If it was up to you, if you were her, you would have probably said "abort her" You knew I was a girl and that I'd be your first daughter but that wasn't enough for you You had 9 months which turned into 1 plus twenty now you're begging for my heart to attend to it's broken it needs amends too, a man too? So I'm looking at guy after guy to cut into some deep hurting pain from my past Not realizing that they can't give me what I'm missing cause I can't miss what I never had I asked God for a brother but I never got em When I was 8 I wanted to meet my Father but I never saw em After that, just like everything you cant change in life, you learn to accept Accept and move on not accept and dwell in it Yet I found myself looking for what I lacked in a male figure in a young boy I didn't know it yet but my innocence he would destroy How can you be sure about love and if you're in it, if there is no demonstration clearly displayed to see How can i be sure that he loves me for me, not what i give or what i can be but everything that I am if I haven't truly accepted me for me I long to feel love from a man who created me with his ***** Not physical love from a boy with a toy in it ***** I'm talking something long term Deeply invested in things that cannot be returned or given back Like time, memories, laughs, tears, words, or the lack...thereof
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Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 4:42 PM UTC
Fatherless Child
Could it be that I substitute lustful infatuation for love? or mistake an act of kindness for trust? Using his words to define me, i mean refine me, leaving the real me in the dust Can you really blame me for being attracted to someone who shows interest in my existence Someone who is persistent, consistent and whose smile breaks my resistance It's a real feeling I get of satisfaction through common conversation of nothingness The willingness to waste time with me means something to me if not everything for me because time can not be given back Sorry your interest in my existence was nonexistent, guess in the 90's being a father was wack. Respect from hoes was worth more than respect from your daughter If it was up to you, if you were her, you would have probably said "abort her" You knew I was a girl and that I'd be your first daughter but that wasn't enough for you You had 9 months which turned into 1 plus twenty now you're begging for my heart to attend to it's broken it needs amends too, a man too? So I'm looking at guy after guy to cut into some deep hurting pain from my past Not realizing that they can't give me what I'm missing cause I can't miss what I never had I asked God for a brother but I never got em When I was 8 I wanted to meet my Father but I never saw em After that, just like everything you cant change in life, you learn to accept Accept and move on not accept and dwell in it Yet I found myself looking for what I lacked in a male figure in a young boy I didn't know it yet but my innocence he would destroy How can you be sure about love and if you're in it, if there is no demonstration clearly displayed to see How can i be sure that he loves me for me, not what i give or what i can be but everything that I am if I haven't truly accepted me for me I long to feel love from a man who created me with his ***** Not physical love from a boy with a toy in it ***** I'm talking something long term Deeply invested in things that cannot be returned or given back Like time, memories, laughs, tears, words, or the lack...thereof
Continue reading...
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I was told that god Is the father for the Fatherless Well, he has a lot in Common with my father Because, they both Abandoned me when I needed them the most
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Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
Father for the Fatherless
Growing up too fast. Facing the real world too soon. 'Cause Dad isn't there.
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Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 10:57 PM UTC
Fatherless
Growing up too fast. Facing the real world too soon. 'Cause Dad isn't there.
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Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 6:14 AM UTC
Fatherless
I'll never learn to shave, Or how to change a tire, But I'm okay with that, Because you've taught me well.
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Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC
Fatherless
He smiles so bright like he has teeth of gold. Projecting the reflections of his own inceptions. I'm done grieving the words that once killed the inner me. Verbally abusive was the past that didn't last. He shattered my hope like splintered and shattered glass. As far as the moon is to the sun is he to me. I can picture his face but to me he's faceless. His voice is like the echo of a stranger. He salts his words with flatter, it doesn't matter, they are tasteless. His speech is drenched in hypocritical lyricals. Transmissions of emphatic subliminals transformed him into an emotional criminal. If people would obey the limitations of their naive believes. Maybe they would know that he calls me once a year...
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC
Fatherless
Another night without you, morning come and you're gone. Where are you, in a world filled with hatred and war. I hope you're somewhere safe, somewhere much more inviting. Children with their fathers, hand in hand, laughing until they can laugh no more. And I sit alone, quietly watching them with the fear that I will never see my daddy again. I've cried all my tears, I haven't laughed for the whole year. There's not a day I don't think about you, or a day I don't miss you. Maybe, someday, we will meet again. In an afterlife with so much more joy than this one. But I hope you'll recognize the broken girl I've become, with scarred wrists and teared eyes. I'm not the happy child I was when you left, I'm something much darker. It's not a happy Father's Day for the fatherless.
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
It's not a happy Father's Day for the fatherless.
Sometimes I feel, like a fatherless child, Gone astray, depending on old unreliable me, Sometimes I feel, like a fatherless child, Lord why am I struggling, Why am I struggling when I'm free Sometimes I feel, like a fatherless child, Wake up and I'm crying, Feels like I'm running out of time, Sometimes I feel, like a fatherless child, That which I want to do I don't do, But that which I don't want to do Lord I do it all the time
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Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 7:00 PM UTC
Fatherless Child
Translucent A burned dream Fingertips at trembling galaxies Remembering stolen breaths Dismantled from rusted logic A steel garden flourishes Sealed with infectious passion A reflection of mirrored pain Emerging bloodless depths Rising to a caged silhouette Shrouded in sacrifice
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 5:58 PM UTC
Fatherless
The hills step off into whiteness. People or stars Regard me sadly, I disappoint them. The train leaves a line of breath. O slow Horse the colour of rust, Hooves, dolorous bells ---- All morning the Morning has been blackening, A flower left out. My bones hold a stillness, the far Fields melt my heart. They threaten To let me through to a heaven Starless and fatherless, a dark water.
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14.2k
Sheep In Fog
Sister who conceived was thrown outta the nunnery This disgrace fed the top feeds hence. Shunning all her exemplary works at once. But where did the well-read ladies lose reference? THE BOOK had revealed it all right there, But when history repeated itself... with just a track from heaven missing And so this mother raised a fatherless child. But in history when the father was a Carpenter. Here in time the father was a Father Who continued to raise "patriarchy" on the altar!
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Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 3:47 PM UTC
"Dis-Grace"
One in the chamber Two in the clip Only a split second Before your sanity slips Street Dreams Road Warriors Lost causes rebel Rob,steal,rape,kill... They will Trying to prove they are strong Just to belong That's not gangsta! Your pants hangin off you Make horny,burly convicts Wanna rub up against you Hydrofried and twisted A walking statistic Confident and content with failure Same path passed on You'll leave your fatherless children to cry When your dead and gone New sneakers,fresh cut, crisp clothes But inside you **** like a black hole!
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Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 12:35 PM UTC
That's Not Gangsta
*Our fathers…dead, our policies…dead, Ancestors jealous coz our prophecy’s ahead…! **** that, I heard they're filled with so much dread, That’s why this world was too small for the both of us to break bread… Look, now my people are dying sprayed with lead… I could’ve chosen to live this life with you instead, And put a stop to these signs coloured Red!!! Inspired from the words of a poet I read...*
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Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 5:38 AM UTC
Cries of a fatherless generation
The wind The fatherless child . The tallest tree on the hill?--there! ---- The child scribbles Hard to read The love poem . . Where's the love? --- Bombs bombs everywhere The tall pine tree Love poem of the fatherless child ---- I am a fatherless child Wind The love scattered thru the pines -- The tallest tree Still is there
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Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 7:52 PM UTC
New morning song
I feel you, I really do. Guess what my father wasn't there too, a bunch  of substitutes but no one solid. A bunch of institutes couldn't give me solace. You'll wonder about fishing and camping trips too. You'll wonder about shaving or using a tool. You'll learn from your friends some of the above, then you'll learn on your own and feel so unloved. You'll get into trouble and a couple of fights, you're living and learning its the way of life. No worries though, I'm here to tell you, If you give it you're best they'll see the value. So don't fret my boy for I am you, keep faith stay strong and you'll make it through.-JS
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Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
̄\(o_o)/ ̄ To the fatherless ̄\(o_o)/ ̄
I heard a story that moonlight was no more, And I wept for the forlorn stars, Forever now, Orphaned, lost and fatherless. For the man in the moon had To galaxies uncharted, gone off, Feeling unappreciated by the human race. He found a milky white galaxy, Where the light of his moonbeams poems Would illuminate the nighttime sky, And that is where I wish to be Too.
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May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 10:58 PM UTC
For Ms. Moonlight
♂ ♂ ♂ ♂ ♂ ♂ ♂ ♂ ♂ ♂ ♂ Fatherless broods, whose mothers hoped for change Fight the law, abort their restoration; Attack, burn, riot… consider nothing strange Extorting payout from their host nation. Fatherhood, dark elephant in the room, Denigrated, dissed by baby-mamas In his absence, speaks potently of doom (Apparently blessed by both Obamas…) ***** donation, filling the wombs with child, Disorganized communities, off-course Guarantee police work when thugs run wild. With marriage faltering in the race: lame horse. Inhuman nature being what it is Be careful who you shoot—and hold your ****
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Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 9:32 AM UTC
Don’t Shoot: The Return of Jimmy Justice
*My dad broke my heart Way before a guy had the chance to *Kids who have holes in their souls In the shape of their dad. And If a father is unwilling or Unable to fill that hole, it can Leave a wound that is not Easily healed -Roland Warren *71% of high school Dropouts in the United States come From fatherless homes *A man ain't **** if he's No father To his Children A fathers hurt isn't the childs responsibility
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Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 7:15 PM UTC
Daddyless Daughters Quotes
You share your words, I cup my ears. You shed your shell, I catch your tears. When life goes awry, wisdom gives bliss. I hold your face, forehead graced with kiss. My words are calm, warm, and tranquil. I'm gentle, understanding; tell me how you feel. You're unburdened, cumbersome no more. Uplifted you thank me and say your peace. I'm alone again, but it's better now. I'm sure. Wings flap; I close my eyes and feel the breeze. Their once storms, now but a gust. Shepard their dragons, I must. Their dragons are slain, the fire is gone. I shoulder their pain, my words drawn. As they sleep, I sit and gaze at the stars. I'm arrested, their beauty. Oh, how they glisten. Frankly, I weep as I'm fighting their wars. As dark as the night may fall, I'll always listen. To whose ears may I profess? Am I not too, simply a mess? No one to be me, for the father. Everyday, the man seems closer yet farther. Who is there when it all seems so bad? I know who I am, the man, my own dad.
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Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 5:01 PM UTC
A Fatherless Father Figure 30-12-2018
You, with your supple and brown leather I, with my gaze fixed on my father’s pocket You, peeking out from its corner like a Child playing hide and seek in a desolate ally I, like the kidnapper, keeping an eye on your Fragile movements, waiting for you to stumble Into a dark corner and into my sinister embrace So that I could get my ransom inside you, the Little green strips of paper you contained Toys, chocolates and kites my father wouldn’t get me. You, with your expensive sheen, attracting me To yourself like a gold ring attracting an eagle Only to disappear as soon as my father left For work and you, containing an enigmatic exchange For little candies the definition of bliss to six year old me. I, with my naïve mind thinking why I would get less Candies and goodies when you would be frail And devoid of those thin green leaves. You, in the possession of my elder brother now I, eight year old me, wondering if your gauntness Made my father a dear departed. You, I didn’t unravel the enigma of your long Green leaves until I was thirteen and you Resided in the back pocket of the Khaki trousers My brother used to wear, Now Tattered just like your old unkempt skin. Dear Old Wallet, my dead father’s wallet I liked you better when you were fat and fit, Supple and shiny, brimming with coins and green leaves. And when I  was unaware, little and innocent thinking You were a miracle for I only wanted toys back then only to realize I need a lot more For I am now cold,  fatherless and bankrupt But you are empty and thin, just like my Dying mother.
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Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 2:58 AM UTC
Wallet
You, with your supple and brown leather I, with my gaze fixed on my father’s pocket You, peeking out from its corner like a Child playing hide and seek in a desolate ally I, like the kidnapper, keeping an eye on your Fragile movements, waiting for you to stumble Into a dark corner and into my sinister embrace So that I could get my ransom inside you, the Little green strips of paper you contained Toys, chocolates and kites my father wouldn’t get me. You, with your expensive sheen, attracting me To yourself like a gold ring attracting an eagle Only to disappear as soon as my father left For work and you, containing an enigmatic exchange For little candies the definition of bliss to six year old me. I, with my naïve mind thinking why I would get less Candies and goodies when you would be frail And devoid of those thin green leaves. You, in the possession of my elder brother now I, eight year old me, wondering if your gauntness Made my father a dear departed. You, I didn’t unravel the enigma of your long Green leaves until I was thirteen and you Resided in the back pocket of the Khaki trousers My brother used to wear, Now Tattered just like your old unkempt skin. Dear Old Wallet, my dead father’s wallet I liked you better when you were fat and fit, Supple and shiny, brimming with coins and green leaves. And when I  was unaware, little and innocent thinking You were a miracle for I only wanted toys back then only to realize I need a lot more For I am now cold,  fatherless and bankrupt But you are empty and thin, just like my Dying mother.
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I wanted it so much to hear the words and feel your touch to be happy I did not know that for the rest of my life I would feel this gap, I I asked around for you thinking I would find you When I found you, you've already forgotten You've found something better No longer did you want me let along need me I guess my search was in vain A fatherless child I remain
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Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 1:22 PM UTC
fatherless child
I don't want to **** myself and leave my kids without a father, alone, like me. I'd better do it now then. The color palette isn't bright anymore. A fatherless man is just guessing. (To be honest.)
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May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 3:09 AM UTC
Clever Suicide
Listen my dear daughter, to my first song of caution Earmarked for you my wonderful sire, come and listen, That tall old man with white hair all over his head Standing over there is not good; he is gnomish in the mind Be careful with him, he is not human in the heart But a mermaid of Yoruba poetry, just like Thespis of Greece Even the pecuniary psychopomp of Sweden gave him an accolade His heart is selfishly full of avarice; he wants everything for himself, Don’t recite him any of your poetry, lest he spells an abyss Against your juvenile poetic talent, he will fool you with a gift; A white sheep or a scarlet goat for your birth day anniversary Please don’t take it or anything else from him, as nothing from him is genuine But only machinations of evil spell aimed at mahyeming your talent Finally to decimate your girlhood and life, this is my caution For you dear little African girl. Listen my dear little daughter, to my second song of caution That short man in a Muslim gear loafing yonder, is suspect The Muslim beret on his head is merely a smokescreen to aghastly behaviour He is in no way an avatar of god of love and humane piety He is a terrorist working with Boko Haram and Algaeda He is an Alshabab that is bombing young girls in Mombasa and Nairobi All over Kenya he has killed the young people; his long egret-white sari is not for holiness, It is merely a nefarious sanctum of grenades, other tools of work in terrorism trade His loudly prayers, body movements and pocket bursting monies are only a stunt To have you kidnapped into death conduit, once you goof to join his courts, His sanctimony is a total picaresque film, (s)heroes of terror the centerpiece And thus, this is my caution for you dear little African girl. Listen my dear daughter, to my third song of caution Those tourists thronging our streets are deadly *** pets, they also skulk **** Their handsome outlook is not a stamp to any good conscientiousness They derive pleasure from poverty and *** tourism; they yearn to see a girl in poverty, Often rarely will they help an African girl, out of milieu of beggarly squalorism, Instead they go straight for the purse between your thighs, Regardless of the legacy they leave out of this lewdness, they are showy, They regret not in their Byronic broadcast of *** and fatherless urchins in the poor streets Foundation for their further poverty tourism, this is my caution for you dear little African girl.
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
VERSES OF CAUTION TO AN AFRICAN GIRL
Listen my dear daughter, to my first song of caution Earmarked for you my wonderful sire, come and listen, That tall old man with white hair all over his head Standing over there is not good; he is gnomish in the mind Be careful with him, he is not human in the heart But a mermaid of Yoruba poetry, just like Thespis of Greece Even the pecuniary psychopomp of Sweden gave him an accolade His heart is selfishly full of avarice; he wants everything for himself, Don’t recite him any of your poetry, lest he spells an abyss Against your juvenile poetic talent, he will fool you with a gift; A white sheep or a scarlet goat for your birth day anniversary Please don’t take it or anything else from him, as nothing from him is genuine But only machinations of evil spell aimed at mahyeming your talent Finally to decimate your girlhood and life, this is my caution For you dear little African girl. Listen my dear little daughter, to my second song of caution That short man in a Muslim gear loafing yonder, is suspect The Muslim beret on his head is merely a smokescreen to aghastly behaviour He is in no way an avatar of god of love and humane piety He is a terrorist working with Boko Haram and Algaeda He is an Alshabab that is bombing young girls in Mombasa and Nairobi All over Kenya he has killed the young people; his long egret-white sari is not for holiness, It is merely a nefarious sanctum of grenades, other tools of work in terrorism trade His loudly prayers, body movements and pocket bursting monies are only a stunt To have you kidnapped into death conduit, once you goof to join his courts, His sanctimony is a total picaresque film, (s)heroes of terror the centerpiece And thus, this is my caution for you dear little African girl. Listen my dear daughter, to my third song of caution Those tourists thronging our streets are deadly *** pets, they also skulk **** Their handsome outlook is not a stamp to any good conscientiousness They derive pleasure from poverty and *** tourism; they yearn to see a girl in poverty, Often rarely will they help an African girl, out of milieu of beggarly squalorism, Instead they go straight for the purse between your thighs, Regardless of the legacy they leave out of this lewdness, they are showy, They regret not in their Byronic broadcast of *** and fatherless urchins in the poor streets Foundation for their further poverty tourism, this is my caution for you dear little African girl.
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