Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!

My Father

I never knew my father.
My case is not unique.
My life is better for that fact
to hear my mother speak.

I never knew his anger,
or felt his heavy hand.
I never was subjected
to her image of the man.

But I do not feel lucky
for all that I was spared.
There is a void within me.
I feel his absence there.

I am not ungrateful.
I know her sacrifice.
She left him to ensure us both
a happier, healthier life.

But now my seed is planted,
my twenty second year.
His void is gaping larger.
My heart is filled with fear.

For I must be the father now,
the one I never had,
to teach the things I never learned
and be the perfect dad.

A life entrusted to me;
drawn from my very soul.
Depending on my wisdom
to shape and mold his own.

What memories will I draw from?
What blueprint or what plan
can I retrieve to raise
this son of mine into a man?

Perhaps I will remember
the things that I had missed:
the games of catch,
the great bear hugs,
or bedtimes gentle kiss.

Perhaps the father of my mind,
the one I dreamed about,
will be a better model
than the one I did without.

Written by Briley Gabriel


Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge