Mr. Donor

Thinking back to when I called this man

The thought never crossed, that he wouldn’t be a fan

Asking what I called him for as if there was no chance

To get to know the daughter, the number one,

that he left in advance

As if I may have burdened his soul

To take this one journey, maybe it won’t be so cold

I think back to when she use to always remind

That this man wasn’t it, don’t bother wasting time

I never asked to be born, I never asked for this gift

But please show compassion, when you speak like this

You might have asked, a question or two

But I could feel, deep down that it wasn’t so true

No sooner than I started to engage

You asked where she was, so I passed the phone over with a gaze

That’s not how I really thought it would go down

The first conversation we had, maybe he was a clown

Too weak to speak to me as a man

Face to face would never happen, cause your just not that dad

Father, Pop, Creator, maybe a sperm donor

Is the title you can have from me, now that I’m older

No lies within, my mother never lied

She told me the truth from day one, and that made me so proud

Your call only confirmed, what I already knew was true

Please don’t ever call me again that chapter of my life is through

I can now complete this poem, with this ending note

Never take for granted, who you thought you should know

A true father would never leave his daughter out in the cold

Maybe that was the problem, he never saw me as his own