My father has a new family
has had, for years
The last we spoke, no joke
could undo the tears
of what it takes,  truth be told
to grow, learn,  and time so bold
The last words I said to him,  before
I stopped holding the floor, for
the small man that was my father

“You’re wrong about me
about everything
You can’t bully me anymore
I’m not your clone
I’m not your punching bag
As far as I’m concerned
I’m not even your kid
thanks, Goodbye”

I left
and I can’t remember now
what that man’s parting shot was
guess it doesn’t matter
I found a garden to grow in
Despite Father’s day
In spite of how it ought to be
This is how it is