Another Father’s Day And You Are Still Dead
You used to say
If you weren’t sweating
It wasn’t really work.
Made me read books
On how to manage money.
Wrote poems
About your father’s love.
I sweat through months
Of cleaning up your mess.
Still haven’t figured out
How to pay off
All your debts.
And your father
Was an asshole too.
4 thoughts on "Another Father’s Day And You Are Still Dead"
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Love the poem and the poet
love this
Love you, friend.
Powerful work.
Wow, this was an amazing poem. It made me cry.