you shook me
from birth
I’m still wounded
with no rescue in sight
and still I followed you blindly
through the years I wandered
looking for that prize
every fatherless daughter searches for
and never finds
your brand of love
is poison to my blood
it’s no wonder I still need a transfusion
ever so often
the heart heals too slowly
Filed under: poetry Tagged: broken promises, emotions, fatherhood, fatherless, growth, heart, honesty, loss, love, NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month, Online Writing, poem, poetry, relationships, WordPress, writing
