Dear Daddy

The way that I was raised

Was a blessing and a curse

I wasn’t really praised,

But more often I got cursed

I was told I’d never be anything,

That I’d be just like my mother,

That I never would have anything,

As I watched you beat my brother

You hit him like a man

Even though he was a boy.

Fearful respect you did demand,

As you choked out all our joy.

People think you’re like a saint,

They don’t know the demon you possess…

But you basically have no restraint…

And that’s something you’d never confess.

So many days I wished I were dead,

And I wished that you’d die too.

But every night, you came home instead,

As I cowered up in my room.

As I prayed to God that I didn’t do

Anything that day that was “bad”.

Cause the very last thing I wanted to do

Was to ever make you mad

You flew off the handle about the littlest things…

Like when I got lettuce slime on your shirt.

And even though your backhand did sting,

I was more terrified than hurt.

But one time your backhand hit me

With an awful thud

And you seemed surprised to see

That with it you drew blood

Against my braces my cheek busted

And I stood back up for more

You lowered your hand, and left, “disgusted”

As I dropped down to the floor

Perhaps I just made more mistakes

Than I did accomplishments

And caused you much heartache

When you gave me your judgements

But somewhere along the way

You must have done something right

Cause somehow I turned out okay

In spite of every plight

But I cannot forgive you

And I will not forget

Cause all the things you put us through

Have not healed just quite yet.

Nicholle Michelle 2008