My father -
always too busy to spend time with me
and always angry at something
No one ever knew what
I doubt that even he did

When he talked to me
it was as if I weren't there
He only talked to express himself
not to communicate
or connect
or touch
and if I talked
I know he never heard me

for I didn't fit in
with his pre-conceived ideas
and therefore, to him, I said nothing
became nothing

and with you -
I talk
but you don't listen
I write, you read
but still you haven't heard
and I swear
you know little to nothing of me
even after all this time
and all these words

for all you see
when you look at me
are the parts of you that you deny

I am what you throw in the drawer
your unpublished poems
your embarrassment
the feminine that you reject
so wholeheartedly

You see me as no more
than some out-of-control
over-emotional creature
yet it is your emotion
that puts me there
in reflection

and you call it fun

How is it
that in all these years
you never learned the truth?

Like my father
He never knew me at all
He thought he hid successfully
behind his bluster
expressing his anger in sarcasm
or saying nothing at all

He was right about one thing, though
He said I was the one
you had to "watch out for"
and that is true
for I speak the words

that others dare not utter
and I search endlessly in shadows
for what instinctively I know is there

for the truth encompasses
even what hides in the dark

and I've found that what once was dark
can shine so brightly in the light of day
that the price is never too great to pay

I thought you were different
because you took the time to talk to me
as my father never did
but you only wanted to hear yourself talk
so you're really not very different at all
are you…?

I thought you were my friend
but in truth, it was the other way around
for when you spoke
I did more than listen
I felt your pain, your grief, your fear
and I responded

while you denied

for you are an old, old-fashioned man
out of sync and out of rhyme
who still believes
a man must never feel
and if feeling should come unbidden
as it must and always does
it must be hidden away

and so you blame an other
for your unwanted moods
just like my father always did

He died three years ago
yet it seems
his legacy lives on in time…

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 1999 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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