Sometime my hatred of my father comes out and it becomes a poem.
I used to love, I used to cry,
I used to think it would end if I could die.
I used to see, I used to hear,
I used to want to have you near.
But now I'm old, I'm twisted too,
And my life is much better without you.
I'm bitter and cynical, and having more fun,
I don't know why you seemed to be the greatest one.
Sometimes I think I'm finally free,
That there never was a you and a me.
But I cannot change, myself or the past,
Just as I knew that we'd never last.
So goodbye forever and try not to miss me,
Father; I will not miss you.