I sit, misty-headed, contemplating change;
Wondering what constitutes that narrow goal.
Because I've come to realize something strange
That cannot connect its parts to the whole:
Change may require forgiveness to the man
That took from me the desire to forgive.
Yet I do not say he abandoned and ran
Instead he gave me choices he wished to live.
And, like a child, he struck ignorantly
At that which seemed to cause him the greatest pain.
A boy, grown into a man, if he could see
Me. A man walking with his head high in the rain;
A warm voice that caresses the souls of those
That need a strong word whispered into their ear.
A man capable of strength. A man that flows.
That recognizes weakness isn't a tear.
So, whenever your childish life is done,
You're welcome to be a father to your son.