Eight

***In the eyes of an eight year old boy***

 

How am I suppose to be the man they want me to be,

When the men I look up to keeps walking out on me.

Did I do something wrong…

To make them feel like they didn’t belong…

I’m Eight…

Eight…

Eight…

Yet this seems to be my faith

To be alone

In a broken home.

Who am I suppose to be?

A dad whose never been there from the time I entered the world.

Or the step dad I valued that left my mom for another girl.

What am I suppose to do

When times get tough?

Who do I turn to

When I’ve had enough?

How can I

Live in a world where love has no value.

Kindness means nothing.

The promise of a call on the phone that never rings

Gifts are taken away…

How can I

Make myself better

So that he would stay…

And be with me.

Didn’t they love me?

I must have asked my mother

This question a million times

Yes, she says with a smile

I know its a lie

Because I see the tears in her eyes.

It’s killing her inside

To see me try to decide

To be the “GOOD” man I’m suppose to be.

But

I’m Eight…

Eight…

Eight…

Yet this seems to be my faith

And I’m angry

When I have all rights to be

Because when you walked away from my mom

You also walked away from ME.

child-with-tear

 

 

 

 

 

 

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6 thoughts on “Eight

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