You’re that child without a father,

though you never gave the thought

any bother.

Until you got a bit older, now you walk

around with a big chip on your shoulder.

Why was he never around? Did he not want me?

I see children with their father’s and it

gets to me, sometimes all I can do is


And beat the ground until my knuckles

are bloodied and bruised, at this point

I’m feeling used, there isn’t even enough

of me to wring out.

Can you really say you know who you are

when there is half of you missing?

When given a moment to think,

being fatherless doesn’t mean you’re less

Less is only less until you add more.

More time to find out who you are

All the things you like, and what makes

you you.