June 7, 2011
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It's become quite clear by now
that you are not my father.
It's become quite obvious
that I am not your son.

I guess I just couldn't cut it,
I couldn't make you proud.
I couldn't make you clap and cheer,
like the rest of the crowd.

I guess I'll never make it,
I couldn't make you see,
I couldn't make you understand
I needed you there for me.

I thought maybe things would get better,
I thought I'd make it through,
but nothing seems to be working
and I've given up on you.

You always say you love me,
but I know that it's a lie.
As long as I keep playing sports
you'll love me 'til I die.

But what if I'm a poet dad?
What if I like to write?
Are you ashamed that just maybe
my words could reach new height?

Apologies won't work anymore.
You made your decision.

You picked sports over me,
you want me to live your vision.

You already picked her over me too,
that woman I must obey.
Letting my sister call me things
while she locks my life away.

Okay Dad, I get it,
I know that you don't care.
You're not my dad, I'm not your son,
and I don't belong anywhere.

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