When I think about my dad
There's positive and negative sides to him.
I can remember being five or six when he forced me to tell my mom
The disrespectful things he said about her.
Talking to my dad is like fixing a tv: u can hit it,
try to put wires where they don't belong
But really you need a technician.
Every time I see him it's a different experience
He seems to switch up like a remote
I can't tell when he's being himself or not
If I'm being honest I've lost interest in my dad
I can't be around him if he won't admit his anger
Now I'm deciding to change the channel
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem