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Father
By Dominick Cortes

The days that I lived were far from enjoyment
Many of my days that was meant to be of pure innocent
Was no more than servitude to a tyrant.
For he, being my lord for without consent, could I breath

Was the man I called Father

As he played me with two faces, I failed for it.
He was a demon trying to play the role of a saint
Fake comfort, Fake love, Fake life, Fake Father
He, though as mighty as he may have been, fallen

Became the man I called Father

What lies I believe broke in front of my fake mirror
Pieces flew into my tender soul as tears of reality struck me.
I lied in torment of my own self imposed guilt, regardless of the truth
I believe in this horrid man’s return, but as God, they both stayed quiet.

Slowly, he became less of what I called Father

His departure wasn’t the end of his reign over my life
He, gone far away, destroyed the rest of my purity, crushed my passion.
He robbed me of everything, my innocent, my childhood
And left his horrid scar across my back…

As he left, I became…slowly, the man he wasn’t

I stood tall against all my foes, weak at first fight
For my skin was too soft, too soft to survive in this harsh world
But, this is now, and now I stand strong against everything
Armed with my Brothers in Arm, I am

The man my Father could never be