The day that I had finally felt old

Was the day that I stood up and said something bold.

When my father had said things, I knew to be wrong

Eventually I knew I shouldn’t play along.

He drank too much, and he sometimes got violent

When I thought of speaking out, fear kept me silent.

But one day was too much and I finally snapped

He said, “You’re a woman, go make me a snack.”

He said my gay friends were “wrong”, muttered an unfunny “joke”

I was filled with angry fire; it was like I awoke.

When driving him home because he couldn’t stand,

 Apologizing again to all those he chose to offend,

I thought, I am your daughter, picking up your mess

And you are hurting others without consequence.

The day I grew up, let me tell you, dear Dad:

Was the day that I realized

That you never had.