Son of Yesterday’s Father
Reflections on yesterday,
The yesterdays of my youth,
Sad realisations and unspoken truths
Bad news l received,
Yet l struggle
To understand one of my life’s
Long standing emotional troubles?
Do l love him the way l should?
I am not the perfect Son,
Distant, eccentric and aloof,
Family, what is that, l mean really?
Never been loving fun,
Yet now, with darkness approaching,
Like a storm brewing,
Hidden demons lurking behind closed doors,
Their vileness readying to spew,
Create conflict and start wars,
The worst is still to come,
It’s only just started,
I can feel their hostility,
Looking for someone to blame,
Like the cancer is my fault,
I hold the flame!
Just ignore it; he said, they’re upset,
And yet, twasn’t l that set their lines alight,
Twasn’t l, that started to coax their fires,
I did nothing to build the pyres!
And yet, after years of absence, they wish to fight?
He is my Father, l yelled in defiance,
Not yours, you only think you know him!
You know not, the hidden man,
The man from yesterday,
The bully, the manipulator, the stirrer of hauntings,
You know nothing, how dare you accuse me,
Of not caring, of not loving,
You don’t even know me,
It has been years since we spoke,
You are not even my family,
You’re his, Nieces, Sisters, brothers,
Who wanted no part of my oddity?
You ostracised, condemned and spat,
Grotesqueness in my face,
And now you seek my emotional sociality?
You challenge me,
Throwing falsehoods into my face,
Words that sting,
And words that are bad,
Do l not care about my dying Dad?
There is no proof, l say,
It is but early days,
Let’s not jump the gun,
Create a bandwagon for circus fun,
For your free talk, that creeps out from under the floor,
Pretending to be so righteous,
With your devious and dubious and impure,
I will not express,
How l feel, nor share my stress,
With those l do not know,
Who care not for who l am,
Son of yesterday’s Father,
Now his own man.
© Rory Matier 2018