Ghostly Father

Ghostly Father He left when I was barely five, A silhouette against the sun. I built his image to survive, From stories told by everyone. My mother said he was not cruel, Just hollow, restless, always free. A man who played the fleeting fool, Who never truly looked at me. My grandparents filled in the rest, With fragments, whispers, faded light. They said he tried his very best, But couldn't stay to face the night. He chased the jazz, the smoky rooms, The clarinet that sang his soul. He left behind a trail of fumes, And me—a child who lost control. I painted him in golden hues, A ghost I never had to lose. But ghosts don't stay, and ghosts don't call— They drift beyond the bedroom wall. Ghostly father, phantom man, I built you with my trembling hands. You never saw me, never knew, The boy who waited just for you. Ghostly father, hear my cry— I learned to live without you, So why, oh why, do I still try? At twenty, I found where you played, A basement club of smoke and sound. I watched you from the darkest shade, While your clarinet unwound. You laughed with friends, you raised a glass, You touched the notes with tender grace. But I remained outside the glass, A stranger in that distant place. I had no wish to break the spell, No hunger for your hollow gaze. I knew you far too well to tell, That I was lost in childhood haze. So I turned and walked away, And left you in your smoky light. I had no more to do or say— You were a ghost, I was the night. But time moves on, and love moves slow, And someone else would have to know. My wife, she whispered in my ear— "Why don't you let the ghost come near?" Ghostly father, phantom man, I built you with my trembling hands. You never saw me, never knew, The boy who waited just for you. Ghostly father, hear my cry— I learned to live without you, So why, oh why, do I still try? I met you once, when I was grown, A man of flesh and blood and bone. But you were just as I had feared— Inconsistent, lost, and weird. No anger rose, no hatred burned, I simply saw what I had learned. You were the ghost I always knew, And I was done with chasing you. You died alone, I heard the news, A decade gone, a life of blues. I felt no sorrow, just a sigh, For all the years that passed us by. No rage, no tears, no final plea— Just quiet grief for what could be. We never spoke, we never shared, A father's love I never bared. Ghostly father, phantom man, I built you with my trembling hands. But now I see you were a ghost, The one I needed—and then lost. Ghostly father, set me free, I am no longer what you see. I am the son who learned to stand, Without your shadow, without your hand. Ghostly father... ghostly father... I am not your son anymore...