Old enough to know you were not coming back

Too young to understand, or know how to react

But the holes still appear, homing in for the kill

Gaping ever wider and quicker than I can fill

With empty jokes and distant smiles

My inside and outside never quite reconciled

Give me one final chance, a belated shot

At knowing a father who was removed from the plot

I crave a reunion with your ethereal ghost

To replace vague memories I half-heartedly toast

Please lay me a trap, or provide me a map

Turn the wind on my face and show me the signs

As I would follow the currents, follow the treelines

Show me you're out there, and I will remain calm

And I will follow the jetstreams to return to your arms