My Donor

2 Comments

My Donor

You never knew my name, saw my face or played a game
I never got to miss your touch, your voice or your face
You never knew who I was, where i am or who I want to be
I never cared that much for you, wanting to know you or missing you

I grew up with another, he was my best friend
He knew the person I became and never once asked why
For he was the greatest man, a man of many faith and even though he worked a lot he always held my hand
He told everyone that I was his, the baby in his life
He took me home when I was born, sat with me when I cried
and held me in his gentle arms when there was a loud boom in the night

My best friend is gone now
Been almost ten years
but he will always be the one I will shed my tears
For you were never there for me
You never knew who I was
The only thing you did for me was create my gift of life
So now I hear from you and you say all these bad things
What right do you have to talk when you wouldn't even give me your last name.

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PRober commented on My Donor

06-29-2009

great poem.. the message is explicity clear indeed, hoping "he" got it!

chasingshadows commented on My Donor

06-15-2009

Love it. A good poem is honest and raw. This one is both. No doubt, it is a sacred yet sensitive subject for you, and you express hope within sorrow. Excellent work!

Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

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