Poetry

Am I cursed or am I blessed
When I a father do become?
How can I ask such a thing,
And my child so wondrous a being?

My DNA she has received
And that of her dear mother,
But estranged from both
I am as nothing now.

What difference I therefore,
To a mere sperm donor
When someone else calls
Themselves the "real father."

And yet I know that I once
Expressed the love I felt,
In more ways than just
That old means of creating.

The ending of that love
Took time to overcome,
But feels a blessing now,
Regardless of ought else.

Still blessed as a dad
Is a harder call to make,
When unacknowledged, ridiculed,
And stripped of love.

Am I my brother’s keeper,
When he becomes excluded,
Or must I too be saying
It’s due to your own fault?

No one wants to know
What is in dad’s best interests,
The law makes sure of that,
Along with Cafcass and the ex.’s

But the children may become
Fathers too one day we know,
Will they feel blessed or
Cursed if they become a dad?