I skipped out on Father's Day,
It's not a big deal,
Seeing that I'm fatherless-
One two one eight-
You'd think I'd send a postcard but I'm already late.
Later than a gallon of milk other fathers would make 15 years to take.
One eleven,
The gin that seeps through my mouth feels like heaven,
A cheer to the lonesomes,
Two for the stressed out,
And three for the textbook history of how we fell out.
This isn't a poem, nor a serenade either.
I'd rather vomit,
And put your life on an audit.
Like father like son,
You gave up on me-
And now your life's all bleek.
As you wish I wouldn't have done the same