Sinsere POETRY

Daddy

Dear Dad

(Please notice I referred to you as Dad, despite trophies earned)

Remember when I was chubby with bushy hair?

I went to that school with that Nun who was out to get me:

Came home with my ear all red cause she yanked just a tad too hard

Remember when I was the kid, and YOU were the Dad?

The difference wasn’t just in “the price of admission”

And I was dumber, and you were smarter

I asked about baseball, you knew it all

You were tougher, I was weaker

Showed me knuckle scars from bar fights

I thought I had it, and so did you…

Remember when you said Mom would come around, and I agreed?

Remember we used to laugh?

What about this Dad, do you remember

When we used to cry?

I used to feel bad about the accident, a limb lost deters life

I remember you used to scoff at the word “Handicap”

Such simple hopes lost with the exaggerated use of car sticker

You limp when it’s convenient; maybe you saw this as an out

Either way, a part of you left, and there I was

Nicole asked when you were coming back

You made me lie Dad, and now as an adult I can’t stop

Weeks past days to win marathons, and I had to make up a story…

You made me a writer Dad, how do you feel about that?

I don’t think I told her about jail the first time

I think the first time

I pretended

You were in Vegas

So many unsent letters, in a drawer my wife doesn’t clean

Screaming lead telling you, “you should have been there”

“You should have stopped it from happening”

The papers worn, but the message is clear

There’s a part of my life where I needed you, not as a cliché

But as a hero who would simply take a punch for someone

Not as a son, but as a little boy, I needed a man

When I had kids, you limped over and condescendingly wished me luck

I let it get to me, and my hospital stay required drugs

Following in your footsteps, I was stoned to get by. You’re my rock Dad.

As the years went by, I watched and learned. A mother fucker took notes.

I have you all figured out. On Anthony’s seventh birthday

You chose the taste of crushed up pills over cake and ice cream

I bite my tongue Dad; I figure I’ve said my peace

So many arguments ago

The roles have reversed, and I can call you my child with a level of certainty

You mumble when you talk, and steal money left on counters

Knowing I can’t turn away, abusing the fact that I’m me

When we pass without speaking, do you notice?

When I call Mom and tell her things first, do you care?

When the words “I love you” leave my lips

Has it ever hurt you ears?

Dad

You live in the room across the hall, $700 buys you love

I let my kids call you Poppa, and think that they’re dumber and YOU’RE smarter

I let them believe you know a lot about baseball…

Keep telling them you lost you leg in the war, I’ll let it slide for now

Tell em the story of the scar on your nose, not the real one, but the one you believe

Paint them the same picture you painted me

Because at the end of the day, this time you’re Grandpa and

These kids will not resent their Father

They’ll see what I’m doing, and possibly understand

It wasn’t the pills

Or the two pack a day habit

It wasn’t the lies catching up to you

Or the frostbite of a homeless night

In the end

I’ll have loved you to death Dad

And something tells me

That’s the way

You need to die