Friday, 15 April 2011

Man, woman, child

I have my father's feet
He has his.
I have my father's skin. 
Filter coffee, not much milk.
He is honey gold and glowing
A babe still.

I am grown up, fully formed
In my head.
In my hates, likes, loves
Dislikes, prejudices.
I learnt from those around me, you see.

He is learning too.
He knows my moods
Reads my emotions.
Don't learn from me, my child.
Stay innocent.
For I fear
I am too good a teacher.