Your Life, Your Choice, Father
When I was young, you walked away from me,
and left a space no child should have to bear.
You never fought to be my family,
as though my life was less than worth your care.
But I remember when I was just a baby,
your arms were steady, your voice soft and low.
You said you loved me, your brown-eyed lady,
and swore you’d never let me go.
You found a wife, a son, a brand-new beginning,
and gave him all the things you denied me.
I spent years wondering what was so unforgiving,
about the child you simply chose not to see.
You spun your stories, one lie after another,
claims that stole the time you could not give.
Yet somehow you could stay beside another,
and build the kind of life I couldn't live.
You taught me love can vanish without warning,
that promises can fade before they're made.
I watched for you through every hopeful morning,
while every expectation slowly frayed.
So when I think of you, I think of what was missing,
the empty chair, the silence, and the ache.
Not every wound comes from a blow or striking,
some come from every choice a parent doesn't make.
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