Jason's Free Verse

This is a poem for my father.

He is dead,
to me at least.
He was never a father
or anything I needed him to be.
The sadness is gone,
leaving me with bitter rage,
a slow and steady flame,
ready to ignite a bomb.
He was supposed to care,
to write or at least call.
The most I see of him
is a child support check.
I will never again cry
for a man who doesn’t want
his daughter.