Papa Told Me (late '99)

I was about four when Papa told me
Through my wooden prison bars
"I love you kiddy,
More than there are stars"

One night I wept,
Or rather turned the 'siren' on
But Papa slept,
And let me weep until the birth of dawn.

When morning came, I began to cry once more.
Then boosted up my cry,
Expecting to see Papa at the door.
Brief thought: "Without my father I will die."

My Father, "Papa" didn't suit him anymore,
Came to my crib when this day gained some age.
"I'm hungry. You left me. My throat's sore."
His silence fed my undernourished  rage!

"I hate you" I speak rather blandly 
"What a pity… We ought to get you a new dad."
"Noooooooooooooo!" My last breath escapes me
I cling to dad, the only dad I have.
 
Dislike him some, even though I love him too
Love which grows with every day that withers
All that he is for me I have not yet thought through.
Papa isn't "Father," and I 'm no longer bitter.