To My Son

by John E. Scipione
(Littleton, CO)

When you were born I was scared I would not be good enough
A good enough father, teacher or provider
I was scared
I was young back then but wise enough to know
No one would love you more than me or protect you from the unknown

I’m tired of hearing there is nothing I can do
That I should be proud and confident that I did the best I could
There is no consolation for watching you march towards a path
Fraught with peril and a world turned upside down
There is no consolation for not knowing why things are as they are and why you are you
There is no consolation for not knowing what you’re doing or whether you’ll make it through

I’m tired of pretending everything will be alright
That you’ll just wake up one day and give up your fight
To prove you are a man when you still have so much to learn
To repeat the same mistakes again and again instead of looking for the light
To stubbornly listen to the beat of your different drum
Even when guidance and support abounds and there is no reason for you to run

I’m not quite sure what or how much there really is to say
I’m at a loss for words and beside myself with dismay
My heart is broken and my spirit has grown weak
It hurts too much to look into your eyes to find the answers I seek
So for now I’ll just pretend...
That one day you’ll come home again full of joy and smiles
My prodigal son

God watch over you.

© 2010

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