F a t h e r
I gave my father seven years
of love unconditional
then in my eighth year
my father decided
to mould me
in my eighth year
I saw through my father
beyond the love
the love had not gone; simply
there is not time for love
when the battle is to find yourself
my eighth year was fatal; that's fatal
meaning in the hands of fate..
forgive me, father, for
I knew not what I knew.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Added by Poetry Lover
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