Published: Feb 2006
I'll Never Call Him Daddy
My first word was not Da-da.
It didn't need to be,
because who would I call Daddy?
He never saw me walk into Kindergarten,
with that fear in my eyes.
Nor, did he see the tears that I cried.
He never helped through anything.
Life, school, boys, friends.
He never will is what I comprehend.
But he did show up one day,
out of the blue.
And I looked at my mom and asked, Is this true?
Can this man really be my father? Is he?
She looked at me and nodded.
Here was the man I had completely forgotten.
Did I run into his arms and cry a river? No.
Instead I looked at him in disbelief,
because this was the man who caused me so much grief.
Eleven years and not a word.
Not a phone call or letter,
but I got used to thinking it was for the better.
I used to think my life would be so much better,
with a man to call my Father.
And looking back now I think, why even bother?
Without him I was happy.
Now all I do is scream and cry.
Sometimes I just wish he would die.
We don't get along.
We scream and yell at each other.
It's impossible to think we could ever love one another.
And I try so hard to please him.
but everything I do is a sin,
according to him.
I have known this man, who claims to be my dad,
for almost three years now.
And during this whole time all he has done is bring me down.
So I dry up my tears and try again.
And pray that this time we will not yell.
But it is way too soon to tell.
And I know he longs to hear me say Daddy.
But I just call him Paul.
That's who he is to me and that's all.
No, he's not that man for me.