I’m no bastard child even if my daddy walked out of my life before I was born, I’m no bastard child. I hold no resentment in my heart towards a man that spoke like a teacher but dressed like a pimp. Supposedly a big baller but couldn’t send 20’s, 10’s, or 5’s to a woman that was raising a child he helped create. What type of man was this? He didn’t acknowledge me as a child but as an adult he reached out to me. Keep your phone number “DADDY” the hard work was over; no more pampers, bottles, potty training your little girl has daughters of her own. Not fit to be a dad, especially not grand-dad material. The most stylish man I knew was now dead and resting with his sin of abandonment. He never took care of me and didn’t acknowledge me as he had secrets of his own. A degenerate, his greatest creation doesn’t even carry his last name and received no invitation to his funeral but looks just like him. What inheritance could he have had when he never worked a full-time job unless a drug dealer counts as one.
Fatherless children have become a fad, it takes two but the responsibility rest with one. I have matured and let a lot of my resentment go but I truly wish I could have had a relationship with the man who I look so much alike. I am no bastard child, I am no bastard child, I am no bastard child. No white picket fence, no father daughter dance, no scaring my first date, no first of nothing just the scraps left for a dog. I wish you were here so I can tell you these things face to face but instead I carry them in my heart. . A man who once lived his life to the fullest is now buried in a cold grave with no headstone to mark where he lay. It’s ironic that the ones you showered with love in life , showered you with hate in death. I forgive you daddy for all the wrongs you tried to make right.