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Owl Critic

by Brandee Spampanato 11 months ago in grief
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The Story of my Father and What He Did to Me

Owl Critic
Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

Butterfly, stroking upon my hand as you pass

Little did I know you would rise beyond the mass

From the feeble design you once showed me

To the beholder of everything I could ever see

Yet like always you ripped off my palm

And left with no emotion other than calm

And you’re gone again

“Will you return” is always my question, butterfly

Because I wonder if you will ever be there for me when I cry

Tough I know the possibility of that will be cut short

When you mock and tease me as though it were sport

Maybe if I make a scene, you could take me to court

But I suppose you would be the one leaving with an escort

Is it wrong for me to desire such a future?

Is it wrong for me to pray for that day?

Is it wrong for me to want you to go away?

Everyone tells me I am being too cruel

But that’s only because I’m not your fool

Unlike them, I can see past your bright wings

I can see the one who is pulling the strings

The one who has the power to dethrone even kings

And you’re gone again

Are you afraid of my words, insect?

Are you afraid that others will soon inspect?

The people whom you once called dumb

To see the monster that you’ve become

Perhaps then you will finally succumb

Every rose has its thorns

But even the sharpest one mourns

Because it is not like you, good sir

It won’t only speak in a slur

Instead it will speak words of peace

Not waving its hand around for a cease

I do not mean to make you mad, butterfly

But please take your gaze away from the sky

Look at what legacy you have created

This longing pride is something you’ve long awaited for

But please do not do all of this for pride

Do it for your family who has done nothing but tried

Wasting away like death will solve no problems

Instead it will only lead you straight to the bottom

Open your eyes butterfly, butterfly, and see what you had

I’m surprised seeing your family suffer doesn’t make you sad

Am I missing some sort of clue?

Perhaps those diseases have gotten to you too.

Oh do not leave, pretty butterfly, I beg

I am willing to trade an arm and a leg

But will that be enough to satisfy you?

I feel like nothing changes no matter what I do

And you’re gone again

My words cannot make you happy anymore

It seems whenever I speak you fly to the door

Not a wave or goodbye, I thought you cared

Or maybe it is simply because you are scared

Maybe you do not want to lose your wife

Without her, you cannot function through life

Maybe you actually do want your children

But in your storybook, they are only the villain

I can assume that I struck another nerve

I just don't understand why you refuse to observe

And you're gone again

We are used to your absence by now

Yet you always fly back despite your vow

Will you not leave us alone?

You already have your throne

It doesn't lie with us any longer

But without it, we have grown stronger

No longer chained to your wealth

And certainly not your poor health

We grew our own wings while you were gone

And we will all leave when it is finally dawn

Say your final words while we remain

But just so you know, they will be in vain

The others may care to listen, but I do not

I no longer want the comfort that I once had sought

So take your games and use those wings to fly

None of us desire to wish you goodbye

And you're gone again

grief

About the author

Brandee Spampanato

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