Dad,
I had a few questions for you.
Do you think of me when you hit that glass pipe, when the drugs take ahold of your lungs and bring you up so high?
Do you think about how low you still feel after every hit?
Do you ever feel like you could change and go back to being the father you were?
Do you ever really want to change?
Dad, I miss you.
I know you won't listen but please get off the drugs, I love you.
What's going through your mind when the drugs race through your blood stream?
Do you think about a time where we were happy?
When we used to play pool and you used to teach me trick shots?
When you used to help me draw things for my art class?
When you encouraged me to be a better artist?
Do you ever think about me anymore dad?
Because you've been on my mind every second of the day.
All the times I wished I could call you and just hear your voice. The voice who helped me. Not the one who kicked me out of my home.
Dad, do you ever relive when we were all a family?
Do you ever go to call me and just put your phone down?
Do you ever walk in my room and think about where I am?
Or is my room someone else's now?
Do you look out the front door and wonder where my jeep is?
Do you even think about me dad?
YOU ARE READING
New Struggles
PoesiaJust some entries, some poems, some just plain feelings and rants about things that are going on in my life. I hope you can relate to my struggles, understand that you're never alone. *Will be updating everyday! I might miss a day though, I'm not pe...
