The Love Of A Father

Another Night passes in the same manner

Hiding in the quilt, avoiding words they deliberately spill

Another hour helps me to put myself together,

While there’s a war going outside, it has become a tradition after midnight,

Soon there is a banging on the door

I open and am sent swinging to the floor,

I lay, for words are there no more,

Only hate.

I look up, all i see is regret

But the pride helps him forget

his mistakes are no longer a crime

The only fault here stands to be mine

On what grounds he cant explain

All he knows is my existence is a vain

These are the words coming from a father

Who as well once used to love his daughter

there he goes without another word

The cool floor helps me turn memories into dust

I still lay there too numb and too dumb

For it is my sin, to not respond

To not look with equal hate in my eyes.

To not hit back even if i might not survive

However, i know this night will

Just like other nights did.

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