He had intentions of raising me in the beginning.
Held me in his arms.
Promised my safety.
Promised me comfort.
Promised me that I would live a harm-free life.
I never trust that people will keep their promises because of him.
The adoption process was difficult and painful.
My Mother has the scars to prove it.
As I grew I wondered what he was like.
Why he left me in the care of others.
What is my purpose?
Will I ever feel whole?
Should I go and live with him to see if we can build a relationship?
Would I be better in his care now?
I am beginning to see that if he was really as great as everyone says he is I would not be here writing this poem.
My family continues to teach me of my worth without his name being muttered in the household.
If he cared about me enough, he would have fought harder for me.
Death to me is an absent Father.
-XR
YOU ARE READING
Moments of gladness, moments of sadness & everything in-between.
PoesíaI'm an 18 year old boy with Cerebral Palsy, depression and anxiety. I'm a British Hipster Punk Fuck who has dreams of happiness and independence. Living with my difficulties can be saddening and difficult so to cope I draw (follow my Instagram: ale...
