My father was a farmer.
He sowed the seeds of dreams
He could never have in me.
He cared for them, and me,
But more for me, I knew.

He waited for the harvest
That one day he would
Watch me reap, with pride;
Pleased that he waited,
Pleased that he cared for them
And for me, but more for me.

He would watch
That crop of dreams heap.
I watched today,
And only saw my father weep.