Who is Dad

The day greets you like a distrustful doorman,
Butterflies build before your eyes are awoken,
No sounds in the house, no feet that are busy,
No laughs, no cries, no queues, no disagreements.
The mind is awake but the eyes remain steadfast,
For they do not wish to view a day like the last,
The heart pains for a jump on the bed,
By feet that are innocent & free from contempt,
Where are the laughs that once greeted you freely,
Where are the faces that were once so familiar,
For life is a fight when the law does not see you,
Alone in the dock with all minds set against you,
You think on those faces, smiles & contentment,
For this does not match the current resentment,
Where are those faces, are they doing ok,
Are they doing better now you're out of the way,
Pains in the heart, pains in the soul,
You're missing a wedge that once made you whole,
Alone in the dock, for your time has no clock,
A day, a week , a month, a year,
The law sees one person & that person's not you,
How are their faces, do they think of you now,
Has influence corrupted, 
Has mother instructed,
Will you ever feel wanted,
Or will you remain haunted,
But how are their faces, are they happy or sad,
Or do they now call someone else dad?
Where are those faces that were once so familiar.

©️ 2020 Graham Marshall 
©️ #poem only 

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