Bastard

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 smiling. Where every time it's spoken my identity becomes more trifling. Raised by a mother and mentions of a ghostly man. Never really was able to understand. Why I wasn't ever part of his plan. 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 face. Not realizing the pain it creates.  A word that is left with so much hate. Hopefully none you never have to deal with a word bastard creates.