I always wondered if I looked like my father.
Walked like him, talked like him.
If my mother claimed vindictive ways
Were the offspring of his criminal mind.
I wouldn't want to know. But I want to know.
I'll never understand. Although I wanted to. Yet I didn't.
If my mother's claimed act of disrespect
Gave his hands the right strike her face
My face.
I always wondered if I looked like my father.
Breathed like him, existed like him.
If my mother looking at me
Was looking at him
gave her hands the right to strike my face
his face
