What about the daughters
That you barely even know?
And what about the beer
That makes you move a little slow?
And what of all the tears,
All the tears I've cried for you?
And is it wrong to wish
That what you said to me was true?
What happened to the steps
That we never got to take?
Where are the promises
That you just always seem to break?
Where's all the love for me
That you claim to hold so dear?
Is it clouded by your lies
Or is it drowning in your beer?
Don't bother replying.
I already know the answer.
Author notes
About my dad.
An alcoholic and a compulsive liar. I hate him with 3/4 of my heart. The other quarter is split into two: One eighth of my heart is lonely, loves him and is crying for his affection and truth. The other really doesn't care. I see him once or twice a year, not a huge influence.
I haven't tried for rhyme in a while, bear with me. I'm experimenting. I changed the style at the end because it signifies a change in the meaning--at first it's just asking him why he hasn't been there for me, that sort of thing, but the ending two lines express that I've been here before and I'm bitter.
What do you think?
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Your life is like mine. Ditto. I know how you feel, and I love your poetry. Really good in the middle and beggining.
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good write
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Thanks
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Good write
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Scratch that. AP is being mean to me and won't let me applaud anyone, saying I'm too poor. But I will return and applaud when that is fixed.
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Well, speaking as someone who has dealt with frequent alcoholsim in her own family, I'd say you hit the nail on the head. I like the style where rhyme is broken at the very end of the poem--I do that a lot in my work.
Notes for better flow:
first stanza, last line: delete "move." the same message is gotten without it--and it keeps your syllable count more even.
second stanza, last line: delete "to me," for the same reasons I think "move" should be gone.
My mom is a drinker. Well, she is now. She didn't used to be. And I understand about the division of the heart. You just want to ahte SO bad, but a part of you thinks, "This is my parent." And the part of you that doesn't care is resigned and used to it, and since you don't see a lot of said parent anyway, well. who wouldn't be?
Applause for you! -
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Thanks.
That was actually done on purpose--the syllables thing. You'll notice that on each stanza, the syllable count was 6-7-6-8.
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