My father is a mortal
He is the very thing that killed
My innocence, my wonder
And I know he still tries to see it sometimes
For what it gave back to him
(The young me
With little bright blue eyes
Is still sitting in that city hospital
I don't think he gets it)
This grinning buffoon
Pushing little buttons and marveling
Exactly as I used to do
Curled into a weary smile
I will let him have his smaller
And smaller moments like this
I know he will stay happy
As long as he believes
That he still has much to teach me
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment