Invisible Punching Bag

I remember growing up in foster care waiting for my dad to show up I tried to let go of the pain, but the sadness holds up I bottle it all and then the madness explodes up Wondering what I had to do to get my dad to show love It's been years since you've been gone and there's tears I'm yet to cry You gave me the worst of you, so how could you expect me to have the best of lives? Are you wishing you fixed up, when you look down and see how broken I am? I may write a lot of words, but do you know how unspoken I am? Are you sitting in Heaven wishing you could do it all over? If you could, would you be there for your son, or would the alcohol still make you fall over? Am I wrong for still taking the time to express my thoughts? Maybe one day when I get to heaven we can get to talk We may differ because I'd rather teach than belittle I'd rather speak facts than talk in riddles Forget who's wrong or right, let's meet in the middle I'd rather go with cold hard facts than opinions, simply because opinions can be fiddled You may think I'm wrong to write about you with all of my fears and rage But mum was 42 when she gave birth to me, and you were 50 years of age So you can never use the excuse you were scared and young You should have been a father figure and prepared your son I had to learn how to tie my own shoelaces You weren't there to guide me as I had to walk through mazes I had to pick myself up after my first fight all I wanted as a kid was for you to be in my life 13 years since you died, but at least then you had a genuine reason for not being around I've always used you as my invisible punching bag and maybe that's wrong of me you were never around, so I had to find a way to be strong for me But now it's time I let this pain and anger go and put these Boxing gloves down