Pondering.

Somtimes I think too much.
And get in a such.
A state.
My lips quake.
As I wonder.
Will I be a blunder.
Of a father.
Like my own would I rather.
Guzzle down a lager.
Belly grow larger.
Anger like lava.
It erupts in your face.
Throw all my clothes into a case.
Tell you I'm leaving.
And leave you grieving.
With two children screaming.
"Daddy don't leave, we love you, come back."
But nothing works, so their hearts turn black.
The daughter get's bullied, but you don't give a fuck.
Same happens to the boy and you say "toughen up."
Maybe if you'd been there then we would be.
Maybe if you bloody cared, then we would be.
But I'm not, I'm nothing like the son you wanted.
Sometimes it's like you want me gone, dead.
And other times you need me, to hold you when you cry.
And it kills me to see tears burn in your eyes.
That's how I know, I toughened up enough.
After all the pain I can still show you love.
Still hold you up.
Still say.
"It's ok"
Still take you to the pub.
When you've had enough today.
Still be there.
When older.
With my shoulder.
To lean on.
Still have tears in my eyes, after you've gone.
But if I ever become a dad too.
I never want to be anything like you.
I'll be the one to teach, my boy to ride a bike.
Be the one with my daughter, up all night.
Be in the front row, of every school play.
Always listen intently, to what they have to say.
See them all the time.
Not once a fortnight.
Never leave them in hospital, screaming in pain.
Never walk away, at the call of my name.
Never Put them second.
Never make them feel unloved.
And even then, it wouldn't be enough.
 -H