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I never understood why 
 he kept pictures of children
he never wanted.
Were they a reminder
 to stand firm in his abandonment
or of his regret?

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Tags: abandon, children, father, pictures, questions, regret

Bitter Wish

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I was 16 the last 
time I saw
my father.
Heated words exchanged
nose to nose.
No longer the cowering 
child I unleashed
all that was pent up.
Extended my wish for
him to die alone.
It was years later
still full of that anger 
I had my wish fulfilled.
A dark room, a gun and 
no note

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Tags: anger, father, regret, suicide, young


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I touch your cheek,

I'm surprised, it's cold.

I reach for your hand

for I need it to hold.


I look upon your face

that beamed and sparkled

as we loved and laughed,

wrestled and tickled.


Your face is so pallid,

the sparkle is gone,

no more to smile

at the hot summer sun.


Your hair neatly tended,

you lie there so still

as I try, with memories,


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Inherited From My Father

I have a leather bag of his 
from a time when he tried to 
better himself.
I have a scar on my arm from 
a time he failed. 
I have his dark and 
full of so much lost innocence. 
I have his temper and stubbornness.
I have hazy memories of 
truly great times. 
And vivid ones of abuse, neglect, 
and pure hate.
I have a giant hole where he 
should've been.
And tall walls built ...

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Tags: father, memories


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There was a man I knew,

not too close, not too far,

as a child he was there

to tend to my scars.


A man with a past,

of that I had no doubt,

a man, when provoked,

who knew how to shout.


A happy man

with a smile for all,

he'd always be there to

pick me up when I'd fall.


And though never far away,

we were never very close,

a sign of those times


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Tags: cancer, celebration, dad, death, family, father, looking back, loss, love, pride, regrets, son

Dexteram Patris

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Dexteram Patris

seeing him that way,
and she,
ever supportive,
gently touching
his arm
for reassurance

but there is a failing,
something not the same,
although in looks
we are so similar.

The Prodigal returns
and sees his father,
straight of back
and stern of countenance,
falling to pieces.

The once proud frame -

and she,
as beautiful as always,

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Tags: declining health, dementia, father, favourite chair, prodigal son, richpix, right hand of the father

*Violence To Ones Own*

Trisha M. Hopkins

Waiting for him, sitting in the car
Under the erie moonlight
Imagening what he'll do 
Seing him in the distance, Seeing him in the night
His mind shouting "I'm going to get you!"

He sees himself going after the man
He sees himself dragging him, dragging, dragging
Tying the man up
Everything is so dim
Under the erie moonlight

Torching him almos...

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Tags: daughter, father, moon, other, violence

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