I wish you were here.
Wish you here to tell me you love me,
Wish you were here to tell me you love the young man I’ve become,
But you aren’t.

I wish you were here to tell me.

Tell me your old tales of glory,
And I wouldn’t even care if they were lies.
I would just be happy you cared enough to lie.
And for the first time I would see you glorified.

I wish you were here.

Here to teach how to be a man,
Mom tries to do her imitation,
But they are filled with limitations,
She just doesn’t fully understand
How it is to be a man,
But then again, you don’t either.

But then again I wish.

I wish you weren’t the man you really are,
Cause all I have of you are memories made of Rubrics’ Cubes.
I probably had better ones,
That might and caught “stray bullets’’ from the gun of my mother’s Jedi Mind tricks.
And they sleep six feet the grave of my brain,
With “Here lies the relationship between father and son” carved in stone.

I wish you could accept your responsibilities,
And own up to what you did.
Because I’m tired of wishing.

I’m tired of wishing and waiting on shooting stars,
Gazing at lonely wall,
Sending out unanswered calls,
Because I haven’t seen you since I could crawl,
And I probably never will.
And I’m tired of crying dry tears,
And walking in hopeless desert valleys,
Trying to find a drop of love,
And I can’t.
Can’t you see you see what you have done to me.
You’ve stabbed my dreams,
and shot down my attempts to become bigger than who I am.
You’ve minimized my self-confidence,
Then completely closed the window to your love.
And now my wishes are on shut down,
And I’m stuck staring at blank screens of wishes.

But still… I wish you were here,
But now I’ve realized that you are.
Just a haunting memory that reminds me
To be careful of what you wish for.