I loved you when you were sober.
Which wasn’t much at all.
You’d lock me in the garden
Throw your Sunday dinner up the wall.
There were photos you kept in an old wooden box
Of you looking handsome and smart.
Maybe you were different then
Where did the all madness start?
When did you stop caring?
About anything else but beer.
We’re you hurting inside you too.
And wishing that you weren’t here?
I saw parts of you that are parts of me.
That terrified me to my core.
I was afraid I would become the person you did.
The monster that I abhor.
But I imagine somewhere deep inside yourself was a spark of goodness too.
Because I remember in flashes the dad who taught me to love the seasons and poetry too.
You brought me a bike that had been left by the fairies.
Held my hand when I was scared to go to school.
You gave me my streak of rebel
And my love of breaking all the rules.
Am I to believe that you were all bad?
Selfish and a drunk to the core.
Because that would mean no rhyme or reason.
And then what would be the score?
You had a reason for being and acting the way you did.
I will never know those reasons and why your love you couldn’t give.
Divine experience and lessons I have learned
And now Dad at last I can live.
Author: Raven ❤️
Musings and magical workings of a traditional witch mountain wondering poet and dreamer. Lover of all things magical. Life is always beautiful, but sometimes hard. if you don't like the way things are change it. Raven🖤 View all posts by Raven ❤️