Silence

Your silence thunders in my ears
echoeing like a thousand empty caves.

Memories of my childhood come flooding back
stabbing at my heart with their pointy barbs.

Loving a child is a blessing not a bother,
When I was 3, I called you my father.

Now here all these years later,
I'm still hurt and heartbroken,
Those 3 little words matter!
They aren't just a token.

I still want to hear them but I'll say they don't matter...

Your heart is empty so you can't answer.
But I'll still love you because I call you my father.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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