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I have brothers and sisters,Five in fact.
All with the same mother,
Three with different dads.
One pays for the support,
Mine's I do not know.
The other he thinks is his own
But with all, love is what he shows.
I call him by his first name
"I'm daddy" he says
My thoughts run thick; my father,to me is dead.
Since five I have been writing-and
Enclosed my letters with a picture.
By 14 he already decided
He dosen't want me.
To love, care, or protect
This is to my father, for what you hadn't done.....
I will never forget.
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