Don't Call Dad

(Distorted answering machine, "Don't call Dad.")
Static crackles, a voice cold and cruel.
Fear grips tight, a sister's despair.
A lockdown's grip, a manufactured fear.

"Don't call Dad," a hollow, chilling threat.
A restraining order, a battle unbound.
My father, 82, a life's fragile thread,
Lost to the madness, a silent dread.
No reason for the order, a twisted design,
My love for him, now a silent shrine.

Empty promises, a family fractured wide.
She believed the lies, a truth misapplied.
He saw through the madness, a spirit so free,
But my hands were tied, my love couldn't reach.
The court's decree, a cold, hard decree,
Leaving me powerless, watching, silently.


A whispered fear, a secret kept,
A web of deceit, a sorrow wept.
How could they do this, tear us apart?
My father gone, a broken heart.


"Don't call Dad," a hollow, chilling threat.
A restraining order, a battle unbound.
My father, 82, a life's fragile thread,
Lost to the sickness, a silent dread.
No reason for the order, a twisted design,
My love for him, now a silent shrine.

Silent tears fall, a fading light.
My father's absence, a shadowed night.

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very cool and little dark, nicely done :W

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Thank you :)

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