#fatherless #poetry #poems #iamyourfather #brother #love
at a funeral he mumbles, “I don’t have a father…”
his haunted hallways finally hollowed,
toughed up and tainted by a one-too-many
“fishing, I’ll be there by three” promise
his heavy, tar-stained heart
now plucked vows like bloody strings on a guitar
and crippling “don’t have a dad” darkness;
love, you shouldn’t have to force it
so you left it where he left you–
on the doorstep;
and I wonder what’s worse:
one that’s buried and you never knew
or a fiend with a son he never gave a chance to?
perhaps you can love him once he’s dead
-iekika nikole