Parents
Keep it real with me.
So when I’m thirty two.
And I don't know what to do.
I can call you.
When my son is only two.
And his face is blue.
In a panic because this is new.
I might even need you.
To come to St Clair Avenue.
So you can get my point of view.
I’ll even fly you.
Man, crazy how our bond grew
Because you kept it real with me.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
