Dear Mother Dear Father

Dear mother,
Dear father,
I'm writing to tell you
I'm long out of love with my life
There are things about it I can't bear to tell you
You never knew I had a wife.

Remember the last year that I spent in our home?
The slamming, the screaming, the smoke?
And the day I left you to make it on my own
Laughing like the cold was a joke?
Well I'm not so proud of the feelings I had then.
I think that you regret yours too.
And some nights I forgot that you both missed me when
I wanted to be home with you.

If I'd liked myself then we would have got on fine,
You could have been so proud of me.
All your friends could queue up, they could wait in a line
And congratulate you on me.
I could not bear to be your pet or your baby,
I could not stay cute all my days.
Sometimes though, I think you just wanted to love me
And that was just one of the ways.

I'm wiser, or older, the difference is not clear,
And I've been thinking on some stuff.
There's things that I've said that I wish you did not hear
Things that I can't regret enough.
There's nights that still haunt me though I've long forgot them,
But you two knew me as a child.
Yes you two, alone in this world of beasts and men,
Remember the days when I smiled.

I guess that I'm asking forgiveness or pity,
I'd beg you for love if I dared.
While walking to my flat suddenly it hit me:
It's only you who ever cared.
That day I decided to come here and see you.
I guess there's cruel humour in fate.
The next day, the doormat, a letter about you...
It seems we were all a bit late.

Dear mother, dear father, you're buried together,
And I think tombstones should not lie
So it's dates and it's names:
Julian and Heather.
Dear mother,
Dear father,


by Matt