Not My Father

So when I was ill only she sat on the edge of my bed giving me some water to drink.
Sacrificing her 1:00 sleep to stand and watch over me.
She would've often came to me sweeping her fingers through my hair and say :" oh my child become healthy soon again".
Not once did you visit my bed, not once were you concerned about the condition of your own child. So when I'm no longer here, don't come crying and weeping next to my grave pretending that you care.
Your not worth calling a father and I'm most sincerely not your child, because in all the stories I've read a father protects he's child.
I'm sorry for the way this sounds but sometimes the heart through words can only express it selves.