My father checks imagination.
Architects
bow to
his reality.
When artists throw tantrums,
his fine walls
never yield to their designs.
Blueprint universe
contained in his straight lines.
Always suffering
lesser men for his field.
Structured man,
you shield
us from unwieldy dreams.
Drawn
from the reeds of your writing desk,
I, too,
am inspected for
a practical edge.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 1:15 PM UTC
My father checks imagination.
Architects
bow to
his reality.
When artists throw tantrums,
his fine walls
never yield to their designs.
Blueprint universe
contained in his straight lines.
Always suffering
lesser men for his field.
Structured man,
you shield
us from unwieldy dreams.
Drawn
from the reeds of your writing desk,
I, too,
am inspected for
a practical edge.
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