Father's Day
Looking through old pictures of my son
He looks sullen and snide, lip curled,
Eyes squinted like he’s aiming a dart
At everyone’s invisible bullseye
Look at that little asshole
People would say
Someone needs to wipe
That smirk off his face
But I know the truth:
His little world riven in half,
Mom and dad nightly fighting
Always at one another’s throats
So we had to get our shit together,
Mom and dad, even the boy himself.
Now when he cracks a smile
In pictures he means it
And so the cycle goes on
Boys grow into men
Sons become dads making
And breaking such fragile delicacies
Along the way.
Each little family doing their best
To expunge the anger and sorrow
They’ve inadvertently brought into the world
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