"light that never shone on me"

well, my father was never there, not in spirit.
yet he was amply able to go and ruin my day.
after all was said and done, we only could quit,
hope for a new and better life by running away.

my last days of California heat were fond ones,
which I shall remember until I'm old and grey.
struggling with my pain by soaking up the sun,
I figured out the perfect way to make him pay.

from that point on I never spoke a word, or wrote.
never even tried. I only heard from him secondhand.
I was angry at him for forcing me to climb into that sinking boat.
I never asked to be the man, it wasn't in any of MY plans.

I was angry at him for lying, for cheating, for beating us.
I was angry at him for our starving, scaring, and making us go.
I almost killed him many times; his death would have been a plus.
Except the more I ponder, the more I feel I don't really know.

So many things I never learned from that man, from my father.
All those things a son is supposed to go and learn...all new.
I was ripped off in the deal of life, but I guess it's no matter.
For he went and died, sick in his bed. The docs knew he was overdue.

I miss the life I never knew, and the father to me he could have been.
I sometimes wander and let myself dream, working out how it would be.
Never too far or for too long, but I do let myself engage in sin.
I envy those with living dads, lit by caring which never shone on me.