"I can't" is weak

I never understood those words he’d say

when I would need his help or hand, or more.

Failure was a friend to him. I know

to win was disappointment’s only cure.

And win he would. The battle lost within

my mother years before her armour failed.

And even in his absence he would rule,

his prisoners parading crowns of shame.

Glowing in his strength he did become

a beacon, but of darkness. Blow by blow

his beaming shadow put out every star,

extinguishing our flames to fuel his own.

So stifling, the thickness of the burden,

until her silent scream at last escaped.

Please. Stop.

Enough.

So quiet that I almost did not hear her,

she came. I never thought she would. I saw

her floating through the gates before I heard it;

the gentle tap of freedom at the door.

If ‘I cant’ is weak and hates to play,

still it dances round and round my mind,

smiling like the child I never could be

but always knew was just a smile away.

I am not weak. I do not hate. I play,

I love, I shine. I’m not like you. I’m free.

All I ever wanted was a daddy,

and even now, I don’t know if you saw.

Could I have been invisible? I wonder

if I was ever really there at all.