by Martha McMillian

Created on: August 31, 2009   Last Updated: September 01, 2009

Dad, The Sperm Donor

Mother always said this day would come to be
When my father would want to be with me.
He wasn't there when I was a child
To say he didn't care was putting it mild.

I grew up, often times bitter and sad
But learned quickly it did no good to be mad.
He was never around for me to call
Not even to learn to play ball.

Now he is older and wanting to talk
It's so hard not to balk.
Still, I know I should
Try very hard to be good.

It's just too late to alter
These feelings from this daughter.
Forgive me for being such a scorner
Doesn't he know, he was just a sperm donor?

Learn more about this author, Martha McMillian.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.