I find it rather amusing that I am here
writing my rage at you
whilst she is in her room talking
on the phone to you
like nothing has happened
like you were here all this time
and you didn't cause her any pain.
I will not be like her
it's too late now.
You have never been and will never be my father
I don't have a father.
14-3-05
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Anger can ceate beauty Nice poem Ian