Written by: Robert Hanna

I remember ever since I was a 
kid being called bastard.
The mention of the words 
seems to be followed by giggles 
and laughter.
Seems to be relived at the 
beginning of every chapter.
But it I shouldn't be amazed.
For seems to be a joking trend 
amongst friends these days.
Imprinting a label on me that 
can't ever be erased.
But do you hear me laughing 
better yet do you see me 
Where every time it's spoken 
my identity becomes more 
Raised by a mother and 
mentions of a ghostly man.
Never really was able to 
Why I wasn't ever part of his 
For these emotions use to eat 
me up inside.
But I always was able to hide.
 The feeling of abandonment, 
pain and lies.
But you still call me bastard like 
its a nice thing to do.
Not knowing how lucky you to 
be raised by two.
My family is forever divided.
I searched but can't find him.
And I honestly don't want to 
look no more.
But you call me bastard with 
out ever seeing a grin on my 
Not realizing the pain it creates. 
A word that is left with so much 
Hopefully none you never have 
to deal with a word bastard