The Father Figure? Poem by sharayah Hodson

Yes he pays for my cloths and yes he sleeps in our house. but he isnt there for my own mistakes. when i fall he steps aside and hope that he wont have to listen to me cry. he doesnt read what i write and that will only make me fight. he says its to dark and i say okay but it is going to cart me away one of these single sorry days. he says the words i love you but i wonder if he is all the way true. i dont know what to say about him the guy called my dad but that i was told that i'm the one making him sad. i love him you see thats why i must let him be.