Are you there? written for the "Father are you there" competition

Second son,
second best.
 
I always fell short of  
my brother's attempts.
 
Wanting so badly to live up  
to the strict standards of my Dad.  
 
I think I did,  
hell I know I did until I crashed,  
but never as well  
as the elder did.
 
The one place I excelled  
was the one place which broke me.
 
The best and the worst  
of a squandered childhood,  
all of it in ashes.
 
A man through Scouts  
answering a child's needs  
for his own perverted ends.
 
But through it all  
I wanted one thing,  
I want it now  
as much as I ever did,
approval, love.
 
A child's mind  
does not work  
as an adults.
 
It is so easy now  
to look back and know,
he loved me so very much.
 
But a child sees  
his own shortcomings,  
his failings,  
he doesn't recognize that  
love sent to his brother  
could also be sent  
to him.
 
That a father doesn't love  
him less because he does  
more with an older son.
 
Of course  
the older son gets  
everything first,  
but a child's mind  
doesn't understand.
 
And six years later  
I finally cry out in pain  
for everything that broke me.
 
Though my father's anguish  
was sincere,  
it was short lived,
I was left alone with  
my broken, childlike pain.
 
My life moved on,  
college became too hard,  
and I married and  
moved on and away.
 
I wanted so bad  
to earn his love,  
I didn't understand,  
I still don't think I truly do.
 
Years passed and  
we talked on and off,  
saw each other occasionally.
 
The adult in me  
who knew he was loved  
was still ruled by  
that little boy's fears.
 
Eight years ago  
congestive heart failure  
took him away from me  
and for months  
I struggled with one question.
 
One question and  
all of its implications.  
"Are you there?"  
and if you are  
what do you think of me.
 
That reality took  
the man I was  
from a hatred of God  
and his corrupted religions  
to a truth that  
faith is for those that  
can't handle the life  
they live.
 
But to this day,  
in the dark of night,  
when I am all alone,  
that little boy still
looks up and whispers,  
"Are you there?"