Literature
My Father's Eyes
I looked up, as a child,
into my father's eyes
Grim and dark, light and joyous
Calloused, smart, and wise
It was then that I decided
to be just like that man
in sight and sound and interests,
in every way I can
But as I grew, I grew away
Stopped striving for his likeness
Stopped being tough and big and strong
Stopped wanting that grim kindness
I did not listen to his words
I went down my own way
I turned from those who loved me
Drawing farther every day
Then one day I made a point
To look down into his eyes
There they were, concerned for me
Still calloused, smart and wise
It was then that I first realized
I can still be m