Never Been Simple Poem by maria goodison

It's never been a simple thing
growing up around you.
You never gave but always took,
you played when there was nothing left to do.
And shoved us aside when a new toy
or something better came along.
A father is not just a name,
you have to work for what it means
and it matter in this land.
From time to time you call
but only when you need something.
You forget our birthdays
but still shout the odds
when your is mist.
Your getting older and time look to be unkind
you wonder why we don't stick around and make
excuses to stay away.
You can site at the end of that grand table and
drink from that goblet of lye you say to make it all right
in your head.