You’re born and then you die. No, there’s much more to life. There is happiness, sadness, success and strife. You have to do something with your time here, more than make babies just to disappear. Up, up and away and out of their lives, not turning their mothers into wives. Just disappeared, dead and gone, with nothing more than a tired groan.
Why would you do that? Leave them alone? “I can’t be the dad that I want to be, so I give up, I quit. They don’t need me.” How could you live each and every day knowing you gave up and walked away; not even giving it a try, not stopping to say goodbye?
I’m not mad. I’m just letting you know. You having three kids is just for show. Yeah, you helped make them. So, what? Who potty trained their little butts? Where were you when they were sick? Out doing your thing and kicking it? There is no excuse to throw in the towel, call it quits and take a bow.
But you did what you did and now you feel the effects. Everyday there are more regrets. “Man, I should’ve… damn too late.” Be a man, step up to the plate, not for me, for you as a man. You have potential. I hope you can because all this here just isn’t cutting it anymore and it hasn’t been for the past ten years of yours. Wake up! You’re grown with three kids to support.
How can I take you seriously? You’re kind of a joke. “It’s hard out here. Nobody wants to help.”
No dude, it’s not them; it’s the time lapse you felt. Your kids are growing up so fast. You know you’ve messed up and it’s getting to your ass. Can’t go back, just move forward from here, hold every moment near and dear. “Man, it’s hard out here.” You keep saying that line. I don’t see you all the difficulties you find.
You’ve got to get yourself together and start being a man. A proud father with less doubts and I think I cans. It’s not about me. My ideas are set in stone. But for the other ones, you can’t be gone. They need a dad so you’ve got to try; even if that means some feelings get hurt and somebody’s going to cry.
I waited too long and tried so hard. It’s official… I’ve been scarred by all this pain and sorrow and mess. It has made me wonder and begin to guess. “What in the world could I have done to deserve this treatment and feel so shunned?” I’ve given up time and time and again. You were supposed to be my dad, not one of my friends.
It’s more than a title. It’s an occupation, not something you do occasionally, as recreation. Come on man, get a clue. I’m grown and I know I don’t need you. You’ve never been there, so I what’s really new?
There’s no bond, no connection, just deep despair beyond repair. An emptiness that can’t be filled by you popping up here and there. You start to ask me questions then try to compare and understand the girl I was to the woman I am.
Recycled Flowers 