My Father Is Many Things

a slight vent about my dad, but in my poetry writing style

My father is many things

He is weak

When his world falls apart

I have to hold the sky

Above his head

So he won’t suffer

He is pathetic

His pitiful excuses

Linger in the air

And his alligator tears

Make rivers in our home

He is miserable and angry

It’s made his soul start to rot

So he feeds on those around him

He is loud

His booming voice

Shakes walls and floors

He spews hate,

His tongue knows no words

Of warmth or nurture

His arms

Don’t know the feeling

Of a loving embrace

His heart is full of hate

He has no love to give

And no capacity to receive

My father is many things

But being a dad is not one of them

Author's Note

What do you think? Ignore grammar problems please :))