Dear Father

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I wish I could say I love you
And actually mean it,
I hope your day is filled with misery.
I hope as you see my face,
Your organs begin to collide and the space between your lungs become clustered,
You are unable to breathe
and in those moments,
I will forget your face.
Father after you read this,
I hope it gets worse and
if your soul yearns for happiness,
I hope you remember,
I was the first step
when you chose to skate.
Last time we spoke,
You said “I am an ungrateful,
Good for nothing, son of a bitch.”
Who the fuck gave you that right?
If I am from you,
Do we not share that “son of a bitch”gene?
Am I not the blood that runs in your veins?
Was that what you really wanted to say?
You should’ve asked your self these questions,
“Where was I when my son needed a father?”
“Where was I when he became a man with two daughters?” Trying not to make the same mistake I did.
Father when I needed you
You needed yourself,
A clear illustration of selfishness.
I had to learn from a woman,
what it meant to be a man.
Not to say something
is wrong with that
But, she, she fathered me,
I bet you think I would say,
“It was just not the same”
Indeed, but better.
She taught me what makes a man, a man
And how to fend for myself
After, i realised.
That you did not deserve to be called a man,
You are a coward in the eyes of the brave,
A faceless creature of the night.
Father can’t you understand
You are as much as a failure
As you wished to see me be,
But, I learnt the art of becoming.
And that,
I was blessed with the soul of a survivor,
the black skin of a warrior
And you,
You are nothing to me.
But,
A dead beat father
A sperm donor
An absentee loner.
I am nothing like you,
The fact that I happen to share your last name,
Is a big misdemeanour,
With that being said,
Just call me Xavier.

Broken City

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A place of misery,
The devil’s play ground.
Terrifying screams,
Of the unknown.
Shattered dreams,
Splashed across smashed mirrors.
Mutilated souls,
Carrying desecrated hearts.
Diminishing thoughts,
Vengeance for the broken.
Bodies filled with grief,
pain and guilt.
Sad faces aligned the walls,
Despaired shadows lurking
The lonely halls.
Monsters created,
In the dark they crawl.
Chalked victims,
Decorating pavements after a fall.
Blood drenched streets,
As sirens blare.
A Raven’s stare makes the
Faint minds cower in fear.
don’t get caught alone in the park
After twelve is midnight,
And
you know darkness walks.
Emotions died,
Killed on spot.
the purge continues,
None stop.
Trespassers are warned,
“Not to enter!”
for this broken city,
Is worst than deaths sorrow.
It’s a living horror!

Copyright © Xavier Frazer 2016

All rights reserved. Including the rights to reproduce this poem, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this poem may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored, in any form or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author.