Missing Him Then

I don't miss him now.
I miss him then.

It was never easy,
and never this hard;

heart's shattered,
and scattered is every shard;

I'm the one broken,
the one scarred;

the one that's not chosen,
the one that's marred;

and because of him now,
true communication is barred.

It's him then I love,
he was my father, and I his child,

back then we could talk,
sometimes even laughed or smiled

back when anger never lived,
and pain was mild.

I wish I could be with him then,
he my father, I his child.

The End

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