All the fears
From a father hell bent on hatred
And hurt.
I have a laundry list
Of the pain you have instilled.
When mother told me
To make this call
All I knew
Was the crying of my brother
I don’t think you ever knew how to say three simple words like
I love you.
My brother how yr bruises have healed
How all that has been tallied is now never more.
But three numbers
Misplaced in past action
And in my mind
How I’ll never think twice before dialing again.
