Post more comments
Want a gift card for being active Forum member? Post comments and win $25 gift card every week.
Rules:
PoemHunter.com will be giving away Amazon.com gift cards (worth $75 in total) every week to first three members ($25 each) who participate most in our forum discussions. You just have to post comments on forum pages, poet pages or poem pages anywhere inside PoemHunter.com
Comments posted needs to be in different pages. Posting more than 1 comment on the same page will only be counted once.
Members can not post comments without being logged in.
PoemHunter.com has the right to cancel or edit this contest.
PoemHunter.com has a right to disqualify or ban member(s) without providing any type of reason, belief or proof in regards to any type of illegal activity or fraud.

Brigitt Rodriguez

(9 October 1994 / Manhattan, New York)

No Love of His


The love of a father.
It's always so underestimated
People saying it doesn't even compare,
To the love of a mother
But what you don't know
And what I do see
Is that this love makes a difference
There is a place in every young girls heart
Reserved especially for he
The one we call daddy,
In me, that place is empty
It's been neglected and forgotten
And I'm still waiting
I'm still pleading
I'm still hoping
That that place get's filled soon
You would not believe,
the countless nights I spent talking to the moon
In hopes that my father was on the other side listening
And my cheeks glistening
From every tear that fell
As I stood by waiting
Lying to myself and those around me
Hiding the hell
That I felt and lived through every time
I saw a little girl run up to her daddy
Every time
I heard a father call over his sweetie
Every time
I heard a kid saying daddy catch me
Every time
I saw girls and their fathers playing with a barbie
Every time
I had to watch a dad holding his baby
Why couldn't I have that
What had I done that I didn't deserve it
For all the times I threw a fit
And couldn't tell the reason behind
What was truly on my mind
The countless times I stayed up thinking
Of a world where I was one of those girls
But there was nothing I could do
All had already been done
And I wonder how he feels about that
Does it tear him up inside too
I bet it doesn't
He probably never thinks about it as I do
But that's okay, I don't need him
I'll fight my own battles and exceed him

Submitted: Friday, April 12, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, October 08, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (No Love of His by Brigitt Rodriguez )

Enter the verification code :

  • Khairul Ahsan (8/13/2013 5:08:00 AM)

    A poem filled with emotion. Daddy's love is different from mom's, but no less passionate. It's unfortunate that you have missed it. Cheer up, somebody someday may fill the void. (Report) Reply

  • Khairul Ahsan (8/13/2013 5:00:00 AM)

    A poem filled with emotion. Daddy's love is different from mom's, but no less passionate. It's unfortunate that you have missed it. Cheer up, somebody someday may fill the void. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Deathly Silence, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  2. When to Stop, Eleanor Ross Taylor
  3. Transcience, Eleanor Ross Taylor
  4. My Buddha, Natasa Tocuc
  5. Alankar(Decor) -195, Indira Renganathan
  6. Childless, Edgar Albert Guest
  7. On Quitting, Edgar Albert Guest
  8. Hard Luck, Edgar Albert Guest
  9. A Boy's Tribute, Edgar Albert Guest
  10. Heroes, Edgar Albert Guest

Poem of the Day

poet George Gordon Byron

I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name;
There is grief in the sound, there is guilt in the fame;
But the tear that now burns on my cheek may impart
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]