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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Family >> ID #829672 |   |
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For a score of years you were a name without a face.
You created me, but you didn't shape me. A father figure you want to be? No, not now. That time has come and gone. My path is chosen, my character is driven. I may not be the kind of son you'd have raised, but you weren't there, were you?
© Copyright 2004 Mark C Bradley (UN: auric at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Mark C Bradley has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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