Growing up #2

I never talk much about my Dad
Because, when I do I get very sad
I can't give my dad much credit
Dad didn't raise us, mom did it

Oh please don't get me wrong
I loved him, he used to sing songs
But dad could be mean with his words
I know, because I always heard

I heard him talk to mom, like she was a dog
And when he wanted his kids, it was to kill a hog
He would take us to his mothers
And they would sit and talk about others

They talked mean about mom and her kids
Like he didn't help bring us into this world, but he did
Don't get me wrong, I loved him, because he was my dad
But he always put his mother in front of my mom, and that was sad

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poem by Frieda Lumpkins
Added by Poetry Lover
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