Questions

When I first learned of you, my heart was light, A father abroad, a beacon in night. Questions swirled in my young mind’s air, Why were you there, while I was here? Why stay with another, younger than me? Why leave me to grow without you, lonely? I didn’t grasp then, though father you were, You weren’t my mother’s husband, a truth to infer. Pride filled my heart, a relative away, Yet lies from my aunt turned bright skies to gray. You believed her tales, doubting my cries, Trusting anyone else, weaving my demise. From then, my words were always a doubt, Truth you sought from others, my voice cast out. Why ask me questions, when belief is denied? Why search for answers, with judgments applied? I cry and pray, seeking to understand, Why my truth was buried in shifting sand. A tragic life began with your distrust, A father’s faith in me turned to dust. Now every word I say, met with disdain, My heart aches, laden with unspoken pain. In tears and prayers, I find my plight, A father’s love, just out of sight.