Stepdad poetry for all the men who step up and raise kids that aren’t biologically theirs.
Hey dad it’s Christmas again
did you know my memories haunt me?
one Christmas we slept under the tree together
i loved you most of all
my childhood memories
happy moments are only painful
overshadowed by the bad
and you’re probably dead now
you raised me, made me a lot of who I am.
Did you think of me?
A small girl, no one loved.
The dance is so lonely.
my last good holiday was with you under that tree.
but you hated this time
your own unhappy memories
you made my life beautiful
you loved me even though
the feelings are long gone.
The Christmas memories continue.
Still remembered.
even though I wasn’t really yours
you treated me like your own.
Christmas will never be the same.
by Chibiakutenshi
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