I still see him, though many years have passed 

Some have forgotten him, worth no trouble 

Me, I think of him often since he's been gone. 

None know I think of him, I'm far too subtle 

If they knew, they'd surely tell me not to. 

'He was a bad man', they'd say. 'Not a good mentor' 

'Did things you were too young to notice him do'. 

Or, 'Why even care? He's not here anymore'. 

I know he was not a good example, 

But at least he was there, although scarce.  

I wish I could get others to fathom

The shame that still comes from betraying him. 

Because there are those days I'm not sad 

For losing this dangerous man called Dad.