Breaking the chain

Dad,

I stand before you a man,

inward a young boy,

a spectator of our life.

The man has no expectations,

the boy remembers.

You left me on the shore,

like husks and shells

that you stepped on. 

The boy remembers shining

to your blind eyes.

Your acceptance

not felt, nor voiced.

Your arms never stretched

to raise me,

to lift me.

My stories were chatter,

you did not want to hear.

Sound bytes buried

as you became increasingly

irritated by the tone

of my voice.

You were deaf,

your mind self absorbed.

Whores and drugs seduced you,

friends and the bottle captured

your attention.

I was an after thought,

oblivious to my needs

you lacked empathy.

I searched for light in your eyes,

I waited for a kind word,

but encouragement and respect

were not in your vocabulary.

Dad,

I stand before you

 as a man,

as a father.

I am not you,

your errors and indifference

shaped me,

your road-map not my own.

The sounds of my children are
the dearest

to me,

their pain is mine to carry.

No task too great,

no sacrifice enough.

I encourage,

I nurture,

I lift,

I broke the chain.