For Father’s Only

A game played with no feelings,
With heart closed making ceilings.
Allowing me flush my face with tears,
as a razor strips me of hairs
Counting my offenses with a rod,
I lived most my life thinking he’s God.
If only Father played like a Mother,
Help dry my dried up tears like a brother
Maybe my heart would open up a little,
Just maybe I’ll be stronger, and less brittle.

Victor Oyedele

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