My Father
My father was a torch
Burned bright for a while
and streaked flames across the sky
the words he told himself
about his life
why he was lit and why he burned
were a flaming lie
all that he wanted
openly denied
all that he preached
secretly defied
his light dimmed
and when
it was time to pass the torch
he had no embers left for me
Copyright © Daniel Bailey | Year Posted 2024
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