Father

Your smile hurts my soul,

It devours my innocence.

It leaves me bleeding an ocean of tears.

Tears that come when not needed; tears that burn;

tears that create a passage between the pitiful corners of my mouth

and my glorious cheeks. Tears that make the heart

ache and the body crumble. Tears that make me hate the warms

of the Sun and the color of the Sky.

You… Yes, I am talking to you Father.

You who have forgotten my name; who has forgotten

the color  of my eyes and even the day of my birth.

You who deems lies white,

And demand respect at the top of the hill.

You who have forgotten the passage home and the

Route to my arms; I am talking to you Father…

My hero, my rock, my killer.