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Personal Note:
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Poem
Since I reached 80 years of life
time has moved too fast but in slow motion 
I oftentimes feel embarrassed at what I became 
and what I could have been 
but old men dream more of the what could have beens

Not what they became

That truth is oftentimes embarrassing 
but not in your case, my son 
you saw the fallacy in my words 
and knew they were only pipe dreams 

With no understanding of how a man is supposed to accomplish his dreams 

I guess you could say I was a dreamer
good ideas but nothing to show for them
except self-inflicted moronic thoughts often pummeling my mind 
I became enamored with ideas but had no idea how to make them work  

You went, you saw and you conquered, my son, intelligently
I say good for you, you get my kudos
I fear talks we had, well, actually all my talks 
were to help you through life
you sat listening respectfully though you were just feigning attentiveness 

I always said you were smart 
and certainly more intelligent than me 
I think often you would have been the perfect man 
if you had had a heart, not a negative but an observation 

To love, to care, to have affection for the family that guided you 
and not become as distant as you became 
yes, my soul aches for the man you became 
but your heart was set on making much money something foreign to me 

And you did, you accomplished your dream 
so well that you left behind my poor man’s advice and found your own truth 
but we, your original family, still love you 
after all, we’re the family that nurtured you and tended your young hurts

I dare say, my son, there was one lesson I tried to teach you: 
don’t forget your family, but time moved too quickly 
and you were eager to find your bliss
your mother and I cried, feeling a part of us had been cruelly extracted 
but that’s life, yet, we still long to see your face again 

One last time.
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