life doesn't move me.. i have no effect or cause
im like a movie.. played with a defective pause
& it loosley calls for all of my collective flaws
to be produced, then viewed with subjective thought
except, i brought.. an excuse of sorts
through my youth i fought as the abuse was taught
i didn't choose the sport.. i was forced to play
couldnt refuse.. i would lose all his support that way
so to prove, i stayed .. being distraught with pain
& each day was the same.. tossed to the game
But.. not in the way of a coach or team
or the one where i lived HIS hopes & dreams
its the one where i'd cope & hope to be seen
you see.. i was suppose to be mean
& he wanted a winner.. dressed in the proper gear
adressed the same question at dinner..
"You think we got a shot this year?"
he'd stop & stare.. watch me as he topped his beer
I'd answer clear.. "Yeah, we got a good shot".. the fear,
almost choked the air.. right from my lungs as i spoke
it felt like my throat was being tightly hung from a rope
it was no joke..
& i dont know.. why, i was so petrified to speak
so many times i would cry myself to sleep
weeped.. like a willow as tears seaped through my pillow, wet..
& my dreams seemed to reflect each feature in his sillotte..
then i'd get to see that he was filled with misery & regret
cause he didn't let me be who i wanted to be.. the best
now the only thing i can do is ask God to bless..
his memory & remember he.. loved me in my dreams...... i guess
R.I.P Dad...