who was there to take care of me when life treated me shitty
who was the first to see the bull but still would love and forgive me
you was the one to only hold out a helpin' hand when i grabbed it
called me a prick, dick, and faggot, slammed my head into cabinets
kick me out the house and tell 5-0 that i ran away
beatin' the shit out me when you're mad (like everyday)
cuz of the bruises couldn't work, now u mad at me
that i put in work went thru my shirts and found a bag of weed
who was there when my mother died
who was the one to console when me and my brothers cried
u was supposed to be there but no one had my back
my only friends in life i met thru cookin' crack
now your "little" boy is out makin' runs totin' heavy guns
because the hate u give lil' infants fucks everyone
who was it that gave me their time when i thought i was thru
why should u care, all u need to know is it wasn't u.

- a note to my father, Chip

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"I don't want to be deep... I want to feel deep and use that feeling to express depth itself..."
-Konchance

my poetry:
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