Leonard Cohen is enough.

Papa was a rollin' stone,
Where ever he laid his hat was his home.
And when he died, all he left us was a loan.

My Father the Pastor

He himself was a bastard
Hypocrite Preacher
Spreading the Word
Infecting Minds
Ignorance Teacher

Age of six
Went on a flight
A visit with him
For a week stay
And all I remember
Is the beating
That last day

Blood dripping down knee
Tears sliding down cheeks
"Men don't cry!"
And a metal buckle
Upon back

My sister, His daughter
Stuck in His life
Raped by His friend
Died because of Him
And he blames "Sin!"

I hear his word
Twenty years later
The ignorance he speaks
His distorted perception

My anger is still there
But I'm happy He wasn't
For who knows
Who I would have been
If he was
~

Anyway, sorry... Your poem inspired me to write... I guess you're just inspirational! If it offends you let me know... but I hope it flatters you!

I enjoy your words very much! Thank you for sharing them.