The kid

By brian francis

He doesn’t seem to have
much use for me these days
He is working to take care of his kids
He used to come and visit
just to sit and talk
To tell me all about life’s turns
I tried to be a dad who was firm but fair
I tried to do it right by him
I couldn’t be more proud of the man he’s become
But at times I really miss my kid

He still depends on me when he’s low
I’ve seen a world of weight in his eyes
When life insists on tormenting him
I can see my little boy sitting there
Wanting me to tell him how
it can be made all right
As we listen to the words he says
I can see it still coalesce
Watching his determination rise

Yet, I know that he is alright
He’s become the best kind of man
The kind who is responsible
Sincere in his mind
The kind who can be counted on
All of the time
The kind who makes a father proud
With just passing thoughts
But at times I really miss the kid

Copyright ©2020 brian francis

Published by

B. F. O'Connor

Born and raised in the idyllic environment of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. A rural paradise perfect for a roving childhood. Now living in the desert southwest, with a flock of parrots, a pigeon, and Three dogs.

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