As the father’s day celebrations get on the way, I think back to when I was a child. I never knew the true identity of my father and there were always rumors who he might have been.
Instead, I was bought up by my grandfather Fred. Fred was spiteful, cruel and hell to live with. I lived with Fred for 15 years of living hell .
My uncles were kind lovely men. They were such a contrsast to Fred. Today, I remember my lovely uncles, Uncle Alton, Uncle Mitchel, Uncle Jackie and Uncle Lionel Crowie you were all lovely to me and I will always be greatful to you all.
I wrote this poem when I was 11 years old at Harford school
My dad didn’t shout at me today,
my dad didn’t take me out to play.
My dad didn’t call me for my tea,
Today dad wasn’t there for me.
Dad wasn’t waiting at the school gate,
Dad wasn’t cross when I was late,
Dad didn’t shout stop that noise,
Dad didn’t mend my broken toys.
Dad never called me his princess,
Dad never said that I was the best.
Dad never sat me on his knee,
Dad wasn’t there to comfort me.
At Times it makes me feel sad,
You see I didn’t have dad.
Its not my fault but I do admit,
Its not easy to say that I am illegitimate.
By Dorothy Maude age 11 years old