To The Atticus Finch I've Rediscovered

You utter fool.
How could you?
Do you think I am like Jean Louise,
all mature and independent,
ready to forgive at moment's notice?
A slap in the face and some alcohol
and she's driving to talk it out.

Not me, sir.
I will not forgive
the lost hope.
I will not forget the way
you, sir, all gentleman and role-model,
betrayed me.

I do not care
if my uncle calls me "bigot".
I don't care if it makes me
immature.
I will not forgive
the way your paradigm
has shifted and prevented me
from admiring you.

Old man,
old, wise man;
I miss you.
I miss the thought of you,
the comfort and trust I had in you.

I take back what I said.
In light of the memory
of who you used to be in my eyes,
I forgive you.
I get it, Jean Louise.
I love him, too.
But we will never understand,
and we will never back down.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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