How Do I Really Feel?

To those who see me every day,

I may seem somewhat quiet.

Maybe a little far away,

But I eat a different diet,

But no one really ever knows,

What’s going on inside another

Maybe you are one of those,

Who had my kind of father.

He went to work everyday,

Came home each night for dinner,

Then wasted the night away,

Appearing some kind of winner.

He volunteered as a fireman,

Created things in the garage,

If only I’d been able then,

To tell of his real barrage.

Creeping in during the dark of night,

Everyone else was asleep,

Thinking that everything’s alright,

The secret I had to keep.

For if I actually was to tell,

I’d be told it was a lie,

And I would be going straight to hell,

He was such a real nice guy.

I was the only one who really knew,

What happened late at night,

Each time my anger grew and grew,

How could I make this right?

There was no way to make it right,

What’s been done is done,

Why don’t I give up the fight?

But then he’s really won.

The anger grows inside of me,

Even now so many years since,

But I’m the one who’s failed to see,

The loss of innocence.

– van –

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