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.
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