Poetry
A Letter to My Son

Dear son of mine, my ache and blood

Mark my words, for you they flood

You eagerly wait, but I want you to know

There's a face to everyone that they don't show

From the times that you'll learn, to the ones you'll give in

There's cause and fact, that grows under your skin

Life is not a game, and it won’t always be fun

But you'll get through it, so that's alright son

You won't always make all of the teams

What's happening now, is not what it seems

People will hate you, this you should know

You'll strive for a yes, and get many "no's"

Your grades may slack, you'll fall behind

You'll feel discouraged along with time

You'll experience stress and you'll feel alone

But that's alright son, it's a part of being grown

The girl of your dreams, may never appear

She may come around, she may hold a spear

You'll meet what you thought was forever to be

And then she'll walk out, so son can't you see...

...That life for you isn't painted in gold

With the pain you'll endure, you have to stay bold

You'll scream and you'll curse, you may even cry

I tell you these things, I won't sell you a lie

People will die, and yes including me

But it's a part of the growth of your family tree

Success is the word that may never come

You'll feel like a failure and even grow numb...

But never let it blind you... nor stand in your way

Determine your dream and demand a better day

As long as you move forward, and look to the sky

Don't worry about your back, nor who's by your side

A powerful path has only room for one

So clear it alone, and make it right son