I wanna call u pops, but i never even seen u. We spoke on the phone but u act like i need u. The truth of the matter, dont care if i meet u. Cuz now im grown, where was u when i need u?
U fix cars, u can build computers? U got all these degrees, but i need a tutor... U pissed me off and i hope that u know it. Before i sold drugs i was shovelin snow and
I taught MYSELF how to read and write. I taught MYSELF how to ride a bike. And i didnt learn till i was nine. Cuz kids would laugh when i fell off mine.
A feelin of hurt, i cant cleanse with the pastor. It aint hurt me before, the effects had came after. My friends did sports, they dads taught em how tackle. While Everybody in my neighborhood was callin me a bastard.
*** the positions, im not worried bout those. The reason i learned much later than most. Is cuz i had to go out in the world all alone. And learn FOR MYSELF or my life come aclosed.
I had friends shot, i had friends die. Cops kicked my door at the age of 9. Ever since then i aint never cried. Emotional dead, aint no love in my eyes.
Im always on the defense, but alotta ppl say im off the deep end. When they ask about my parents, i say they good, even tho i never get to see them... I miss my momma, but whats a father? My moms the one that told me grind harder, my momma told me just grind smarter.
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Hii Yella
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Letter to "Dad"
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life
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shortiiie_q says: Yes grind harder and grind smarter, although my father situation is different from yours . i can realy understand where you coming from . nice write 💛 |
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY Hii Yella
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