Richard Pierce

Life, Poetry

A FATHERS’ DAY POEM TO MYSELF

Sometimes, I wish
I would not share my children’s taste in music,
Nor shared with them the music I love,
And that they hated what I like.

Sometimes, I wish
I could be that remote father whose cigarette smoke
Is smelt outside closed doors and becomes a legend
Of his imperfect love.

Sometimes, I wish
I was on my own in this world with no-one else
To worry about, and just an empty room to keep clean,
And endless evenings to myself.

Sometimes, I wish
I could finish my book on parenting, and complete
The lessons to new parents like myself,
Twenty-seven years after the event.

Sometimes, I wish
Life had been different for me, and that love hadn’t
Made me vulnerable forever, because that’s
What being a father does.

Most often, I wish
I were a better father.

1 Comment

Leave a Reply