A Fathers Love…

Born to a slight frame, dreams oversized to my reality.

A game played by boys to show their toughness.

The pigskin tossed to a toddler hoping to create desire,

that I would become all he wasn’t.

Allowed to suit up but seldom chosen to play,

participation became a medal of success.

Now a young man, wear the school jersey a must I’m told,

it’s your time to be the star.

Confused, they’re asking me to play?

Hearing my name as we enter the field, another’s dream comes true.

A mouthful of blood and dirt covering my backside,

a mistake was made in my choosing.

Soon practice is filled with yells and a slap to the head,

toughen up and be a man.

When motivation fails, the challenger punches my mouth,

again blood flows from the lip as I fight the urge to cry.

Home finds no respite as the man thinks I’m weak,

breaks me down to the ground, get up and fight, be tough.

Accepting my limits not seen by the man,

knowing I’ll never be the dream fulfilled.

I have but one place to escape the torture,

not knowing how to cope.

Finding a willing friend in a weed who teaches me to say.

Fuck it.

The man I’ve become is not part of the plan, yet I’m alive,

numb and alone, but feeling no more pain.

On becoming a man.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: