Letters to my father



 “Dear daddy,

The skies are grey,

Each leaf has turned to a deep brown color,

Dusty autumn winds awake the river;

To make thunderous sounds throughout each day


Mama’s letters to God are stacked inside

Her chest of drawers;

And she only asks one thing from Him,

To bring you home this Christmas,

So we can forget that you did not return last Christmas,

That our smiles turned to cries,

When the guards dragged us out,

Saying there were no more trains coming.


I have learned so many new games we can play,

I would love to hear what you have to say.”




“Dear daddy,

Mine workers are on holiday!

The Newspapers say


We went to the train station today,

Mine workers arrived in droves,

Embraced their families

Newborn babies with sparkling innocence,

As they found true love meeting their fathers,


We looked through each and every carriage,


Then I watched her jaws drop

As tears found their path down the lines on her face,

To her chest,

All she could do was attempt to convince me that

You were still to come next Christmas.”





“Dear daddy,

Mama was hit by a car,

I did not know her whereabouts for three days,

They gave me her clothes,

Full of blood,

The funeral was packed,

I wore a black dress,

And a black ducky on my head,

People looked at me different.

Like they were thinking what I was thinking;

“What will happen to me?”





“Dear daddy,

I live in a shack,

There is always a stench of yellow urine

The girl next door has different men every night

Some boys I have never seen came by yesterday

And wrote “Bitch” on her door,

Smashed her window and shouted “bloody whore!”


She got hooked on drugs.

She moved out.

I did not know where she was

Until I heard she lived under a highway bridge,

She looked frail

I doubt she was well

The conspiratorial whispers are that she could have AIDS

And it does not really look like anyone cares”



Dear daddy,


She confessed to being a bitch,

Fucking different men for survival,


But she said her true confessions are hidden

in undiscovered corners of her soul,

And that all we did was strip her naked to find faults


I found letters to her father stacked inside her chest of drawers,

Neatly placed next to her suicide note

Where she wrote…




“Dear daddy,

I don’t know which one I hate more,

You or the sound of a train,


My story began when you left and never returned

It unfolded to me and mamma waiting at the train station for you,

Hoping that you would be on the next train,

Or the next one

Till we would silently agree that you were not coming,

And we would walk back home for hours


With only the sound of our footsteps to fill the distance

                                                                     And melody of trains returning to the city”

One thought on “Letters to my father

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