The Ghost

The ghost that hunts, but hasn't died.
He left after only a short time.
Never wrote or so I thought.
Years pass and something tore him a part.
I've always thought something wasn't right.
She tells me my father isn't who I love.
My little mind only cries.
My little mind only hates.
He left and never saw all the wondrous things that I've done.
The ghost that hunts, but never died.
I haven't heard a word in a long time.
I'm sweet sixteen, but without the sweetness.
For the past eight or nine years on my birthdays before I blow out the candles, I wish for his presence to join the room.
Or maybe later to see him in a dream.
I pray constantly for God to bring him back to me.
I see my friends with both their mommy's and daddy's.
I wonder maybe that could be me.
Jealously isn't a pretty thing and I wish not to be.
I tell them love for what you have, because the someone unfortunately doesn’t have a dad.
The ghost that haunts, but still lives.
Will you HELP ME FIND MY DAD!