Father Thinks He Knows Best
Too quiet, my son
I worry about you
Thou contemplate overmuch
Get out there and do
Too noisy, my daughter
Unbecoming of you
You're a young lady already
Not a foul-mouthed shrew
Too passive, my wife
For this century
Take control of your life
Learn to fly like me...
It's our turn now, Dad
To gang up on you
But we won't go there
~ We'll just bid you adieu
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2020
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