Father / Rain – by Arlene Antoinette

Scroll down to content


You grew up without him,

one of three boys

raised by a single mom.

She loved you with all of her heart

it was never enough to fill that void,

gratify the hunger

you yearned for fantasy to fill.


You created a magician.

A dad who could hocus pocus

your insecurities away.

A father whose magic hat

had power to build self-esteem

as if sleight of hand,

could heal the heartache

of a broken home.


You’ve postponed living,

say the best will come

when he returns.

You dream of the day

he will stand before you and say,

“I’m sorry son, I’ve returned to fill the hole

the empty place that aches.

You are someone worthy of my love.”


It has been 30 years.

That day has not yet happened

nor will it ever.

Who loved you more

the one who left

or the one who stayed?



It’s raining

The doorbell rings; you stand there grinning slyly.

As always, you are an uninvited guest.

But you did not come alone,

Three unknown smiles are aimed at me.

I am washed in a torrent of emotions; surprise, anger and fear 

I play the role of a polite hostess.

Each forced smile etching deeper into my skin.

The clock ticks as I await your departure

yet, you show no inclination of leaving.

They flow deeper into each crevice

You and your accomplices linger for hours.

My anger wars with my calm façade.

I struggle to maintain my composure,

but feel a crack surfacing in my mask.

I am left drenched

You launch many accusations at me

then follow up with a joke.

You were always the gifted comedian.

During a quiet moment you whisper-

Are you upset with me?

I wish to dry these emotions from my skin

The crack deepens, the veneer breaks down.

Stolen glances out the window slow my breathing.

I am trapped by social dictates

and a six foot eight wooden door.

The smell of petrichor surrounds me

Finally, you and your co-conspirators leave.

My day has been wasted, my emotions spent.

I inhale fresh air as an inmate released from prison.

Freedom is regained until the next time.

The rain has finally subsided

As the locks click into place

I recall the past when we loved each other.

A quick amputation would be better

than this socially acceptable fade.

*The bold lines flow with each other and are read together at one time. The regular print lines skip over the bold lines and are read together.


Arlene Antoinette is a novice poet/lyricist with dreams of one day writing a piece that breaks hearts. She holds an old outdated bachelor’s degree in sociology with a minor in psychology.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: