Father
Mostly in talks with my sister
Do I realize
I’ve been chasing something of a ghost.
A ghost that I’ve managed to idolize
Most of my life.
A ghost that avoided me
In dire times of need.
A ghost that was devoid of all
But anger.
God,
That anger has seeped its way
Into my life,
And stained my very foundation.
Always lingering.
Ready to lunge.
But I guess that’s what a father does.
At least mine anyways.