Heritage

Hereditary traits I’m my father’s son I carry his genes He is a part of me this is inescapable If I hate him, I hate myself. Now that I’m older than my father He is my son, you can’t help but Loving your son. I once saw my father on a bus going Into town, reached out to say halloo I, misled, looked out of the window I saw his tears. Wish this moment would return It is my eternal shame My father is my son, I think of him gently.