The son vents his suppressed anger on dad The father should know he’s no more a lad, He’s a man that needs his own space To lead a life at his own pace. Every time thus the son speaks out Feels brave enough to open his mouth The father feeling himself an intrusive mole Shrinks in panic, seeks a hiding hole. Every father at sometime absorbs such pangs And buys peace with the youthful arrogance, On his heart though weighs a load of stone, He swallows all that he can’t tell his son.