a Father

He was like an open canister filled with candy to a child
To an adult, he's like a mountain of ice.
The calm surface with intelligence and strength of a million souls within
He knows when to crumble,
but will always stand tall when you need him to.

He is a martyr,
a man who will stand in the path of a hurricane,
to hold it off,
to save the honor of his only born.
A craftsman who will die daily to make ends meet
and create a utopia and blind his offspring from the demons around…
He is perfect in more ways than one

I can see him laughing
Enjoying his drink
The crafty mix of ginger, ice, soda and rum.
His perfect scent…

he only smiles when he sees me…
so I know he cries when he closes his sight and is lost in the whirlwind of fantasies he lived before I was born…
the child that provided his mask and gave way to failed I love you’s…

He was there…
cheerful and proud watching on as I gathered my achievements…

He left from time to time…
came back and took long baths where tears were mixed with the trickling water on his skin…
his soul was never cleansed,
but he kept trying,...

I never knew him
I never got to know him
I won't ever get the chance to really know him
But I felt him
And I'm proud that he chose to leave
I never asked to be born
At least he did not make me hate I was!