Father

Father
When you brought me into this world, creating an existence of me
it was a mistake
Let me open up this once, that is what I feel
At least I be true, to my own self and possibly with you also
I choose to fear you not, not to be disrespectful
I am not brave, neither am I rude
But I look unto you a lot, you are my father
And am proud to be a son, father

I could have called you mentor, if I was the one giving names
Though it is your onus, father
A mentor you should be, for truly you are
Am confusion, a description of me is its definition
I don’t know whether am living or existing
What am I? my famous cliché
I have copious clusters of question, hopefully you will answer
You’re all knowing, omniscient they call you
And satisfactory answers I will get, bounteous

At least you could have provided instructions, a manual would work well
as a light, a guide through
with vivid and clear explanations to this unworthy existence
Through this this abyss, a dungeon of darkness
Called life, a synonym of suffering
I chose to talk to you, for you talk to us not
like our elder brothers and sisters, those from the past
I yearn you get vocal, more precise and palpable

I cannot tell if you have forsaken thee, question not, a tough warning
Though it seems so obvious
For your going, is an explanation of eternity
I feel tired of these imprecise platitudes, premeditated to foster false belief
You will soon come!
… give a sign dad

The memories are so painful, the ones of me talking to a silent you
I was a kid in need of consolation, now answers
Those nights and mornings, before meals I gave thanks to you
Father, hoping you at least could one day dine together
Is it possible, we one day have a talk, a serious deep conversation?
To at least patch the loop holes, possibly bond
To perfectly knit it again
Like father and son, please

But until then, I just need answers
Do I have to suffer if I have a caring father?
Are you there?
Do I have to endure all these struggles and still be a son to a providing father?
Does my face have to soak in tears every night, talking to an absent comforting father?
I deserve to be happy, having a loving father
Please be you, or at least what I am told you are

It is not yet fully broken, consider me prodigal not
I still have an ear to give, father
For explanations, if corrections I will acknowledge
I may be speaking for myself, but I’m a depiction of a suffering lot
Not to be seen as a poetic clown, writing for clout
I address you only, father, the all knowing
I wish not to be perceived defiant, nor rebellious
It is just a correction, of a mistake I feel you did
Hope I won’t get admonished, talking to my father is not a sin neither a slip up
Entreating for answers isn’t doubting, hope I don’t get shunned
Father