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I remember being small
The adults were in charge
They knew what they were doing

If something made me sad
It was going to be okay
If I was mad
I got told to calm down

I was stubborn
I fought
I resisted
But I listened

It took becoming a parent
To understand
You don't know what the ******* are doing either
Even though you might know a little bit more

The worst day of my life back then
Was if my bike tire was flat
Or my videogame wouldn't work
If I didn't get my way,
I would selfishly act like a ****

Being a child and innocent
Slipped out of our fingers
At a speed we couldn't stop
Never seeing the picture for how big it really was

My first role in being an adult
Was having my first dog
And taking it for walks

You have to take a **** at 2AM?
Sure, why not?
I will take you out
Because you are my friend

The love I felt for this dog, and friend
Was put to the test
When it was hit by a cab
My choice to euthanize
My friend, her end

I joined the army
Only a year or so after
And became a father somewhere in the mix

I've always treated my son
Like a future man
Not telling him what he can't
But what he can

I understand the pain of being a parent now
But I accept this blessing as something true
I wouldn't trade it for the world
Would you?
I watch him undress,
Chocolate skin, hairy chest,
But where are the six packers?

He read my thoughts,
and whispered softly in my ear
Sixth sense, six packs, six degrees of separation,
My evil third eyes, blinks with no hesitation

when I look at you.
 Oct 2015 Leal Knowone
Emily Dawn
My days, nervous glances
Worrying for her, endlessly
She does not smile at his name
Now, she cringes at the sound
Each delicious syllable a knife
A paper cut

Words pass her quietly
She covers her ears,
Concentrating only on dissecting
Every opportunity she had
To not ***** up
Every opportunity missed

I watch her, anxious
Hands shaking, grasping
Head hitting pillow,
Mind wandering back to him
Bleugh
 Oct 2015 Leal Knowone
Emily Dawn
2am
Those holy hours,
Fashioned for lovers

Recipe of contented sighs,
Futures planned in star hushed whispers

But it is I alone who dwells within them,
These lonely hours

Good only for licking wounds,
Or tearing new ones
Should have been asleep, instead I was writing
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