I once was a boy,
Asked little of others.
Most vanished, as though stolen by the night.

Days on end I remember,
Waking up to the still,
Of not a soul, to be found within my sight.

Notes on tables,
Bagged lunches magically appear,
Yet still, no one, to smile upon.

And as I grew older,
I find myself ignorant,
In how, this parenting thing, is done...