Did you really mean the world to me?
I tell everyone that you did.
That you touched an inner part of me from birth. 
Because you could.
Because you did.
But you don't know.
I never admitted it to you.

I never wrote you an original letter
That wasn't a rehash of the last one.
That heart problem of yours.
You pretended,
Though your fingers waned 
When attempting to write.
I pretended along with you.
Took you for granted.
It's the easy way out.

Now what Papa?
Will you ever know what I become?
Will you ever be proud of me?
Will you care now that you've left this slimy world?
Here is my last, unoriginal words to you.

I'm sorry.