Daddy Dearest

 

 

Daddy dearest, so dear to thee,

will the day ever come,

out from under his thumb,

when the imprisoned will be free?

 

Is satisfaction in stupefaction?

Was the desertion of time

really reason enough

 for such pedantic  reaction?

 

When your Daddy went away

and left the meter running,

was it because  there was

  no one else to betray?

 

As time together flashed briefly by,

were those paternal passages

and eternal messages such

an overwhelming mystery?

 

Does childhood skin so flayed

by flawed and broken ties,

leave no more names or

 games to be played?

 

When pieces of heart are given

as children are wont to do,

then taken away in fright,

why must we be so driven?

 

Questions, no answers, lie here,

in the moldering smoldering

untidy moments of now,

for answers epitomize fear.

 

 

Copyright r.b.franklin 17/02/08

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