I found my father at the end of last year,
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and lost him on my Birth's date.
I had only 3 months to connect with him,
but I was not worth a moments waste.
The pain of rejection at the time,
my tearful appeal did state
No solace could he give with his words,
again, I was not worth the waste.
Then on his passing, I reflected,
and pondered the chances I might take
To forgive those that have done me wrong
and ask forgiveness for a gracious fate.
So I found my real mother,
and my call reached many states
What transpires through years of neglect,
a maternal relationships fate.
Her voice was strong, but quivered
I told her of my fathers fate.
I sought to open a dialogue,
to seek repairs to make.
Her voice was cold, its silence loud
she let me know she was irate
But in her sound, upon her way
condescendingly, the sound of hate.
I do not know my mother,
nor my father, to this day
There is a hole inside my soul,
that has broken me in every way.
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