Growing Up

Growing up she used to daydream

that her father was a drunk or on drugs.

 

He never had a job. 

He never spent time with the kids. 

He was always somewhere else

doing god knows who.  

 

There was never a good explanation. 

Was he insane?

Could he love?

 A bad seed?

Author: annieepoetry

I am poet. I am woman. I write with my thumbs. Read my poems. Tell me what You think. You may find the love poem you always thought someone wrote for you. Or the one you meant to write But Becareful lovers tell zingers and often break hearts Milky Way Earth U.S.A Madison WI

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