Holding my brother’s hand, watching our daddy leave,
I asked “Does daddy hate us? Did we do something wrong?” and clung to his sleeve.
Anthony looked down, with tears in his eyes,
“No Sis, Daddy is just one of those guys.
He wanted the perfect family,
and in his eyes, that’s not you and me.”
I was three and he was eight,
when he changed his emotional state.
He became the man of the house over night,
I know it had to give him one hell of a fright.
No longer able to play with his little Sis,
its the old Anthony that I will always miss.
He was eight and I was three,
when I no longer had a daddy.
I became like a turtle in a shell,
the thing is, no one could really tell.
No longer smiling up at my Big Bubber,
it felt like my emotions were made of rubber.
Walking out, my father took more then just him.
And what he took made all the lights dim.
He took mine and my brother’s childhood,
leaving us in the dust, like no father should.
We got tired of being blamed for what he had done,
so we finally started to return his own shun.
Holding my brother’s hand, watching our daddy leave,
I asked “does this mean its all gonna change?” and wiped my nose on his sleeve.
Anthony looked down, with a half hearted smile,
“No Sis, everything will back to normal in a while.
Mommy is still here, and we’ve got each other,
just hold on to me, since nothing will get through your Big Brother.”