Our Daughters
She smiles at me with such innocence, not knowing the makings of a man,
just a false understanding from a fatherly love that most young men aren’t capable of.
Will her heart withstand the ache, or will her very existence become a question.
Is the love I give misguiding, is it suggesting im anyway different, though the love for our children tends to alter our behavior, what was once considered player has become a pet peeve, now how would I feel If she embrace someone just like me, well; like I use to be.
Would I be able to accept her decision, will I be able to ease her pain; the same pain I inflicted that turned innocence into bitterness, an yet I walked around unwilling to recieve blame. I look at myself in the mirror, and see the way I use to be; rationalizing
past actions, or should I say boyish indepencies, as I come to grip with the man im suppose to be. Here I stand having done more harm then good, broken hearts lay lifeless all around me, drowning in my own self pity, wondering if they can ever find a way to forgive me.
(2014)
What is a man truly made of, or what truly makes a man.
