by Nick Gisburne
The features in the photo don’t belong.
A crooked, yet profoundly handsome face.
The tangled hair, the nose a little long.
A figure of unquestionable grace.
The emptiness of cold, uncaring eyes
Belies that mellow, mesmerising smile.
Delusional, but infinitely wise.
A face I want to love, and yet revile.
A paradox, a mystery, unsolved,
A thousand contradictions made the man.
Around his distant star my world revolved,
A disregarded pebble in his plan.
The father I would never want to be,
But every part of him is part of me.
