My Father

My father tried to raise me.
He stuck around and stuck out the trials of raising a daughter.
Oh what a pity, his life has been hard.

Such a long life, he will never remember the small moments of my life.
He will not remember his anger;
The backhanded comments or the backhanded punishments.

No one remembers the accusations,
From daily discourse.
No one but me.

A lost key, I was accused.
I did what I was asked, my part in the search.
Finders' Keepers applies to blame now too.

A lot of memories, burned into my mind
Now they are stories, accused of being fake.
Because no one remembers the pain of a girl alone.