Untitled
This is a poem to my “father”, Jordan,
Whom I’ve never known
To be
And whose bleeding wrist
Never brought
A tear.
And when he burned
I never cared.
He never cried
With open doors
So I didn’t care
To take a look.
He was nailed
For who he was
While I yelled
For what he’s done.
And when there was dark
He would come
To see
And love
But I did not see.
He would come
With a smile
To relieve our pain
But
Was only greeted
With our hate
Because,
I believed,
I was the best,
And I was in a pain
He would not know.
Now I see
The tries he made
To give us life
And destroy our chains
To the hate
Of this world.
But with that
I also realize
That this crucified man
Will never,
Let me see
Who he is.
So I’m sorry
“Father”
Whom has
Always been
But never seen
For I have
Killed
Your only tries
To give me life.
Jeffrey Garcia,
Your ignorant “son”