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Grown Up

Where are those days of unbound joy?
Of happiness just for the moment and
living for the shared social whirl
of real ales and board games?
They are in my childish past;
back in the days of youthful abandon
where responsibilities were given little
thought, as they were the realms of others.

But I am now one of those others.
I am a husband and father, a head
of a household in need of upkeep so
neighborly do-gooders do not look upon
the abode with snide, holier than thou
sneers upon their twisted faces.

An original poem – please seek permission before reproducing in any way.

Father’s Day

Sitting in my chair, cards strewn around
It makes me appreciate family and
To think upon those unfortunate ones:
The fathers whose children are not
In their lives any longer and those who
Yearn, year after year, for the situation
To warrant their receipt of such card.

As mine start to spoil the day with their
Incessant fighting and smarmy retorts
And my anger rises and voices raise,
Part of me feels guilt for my actions
Knowing that many wish they could
Be in my shoes for even an instant
And embrace the children, regardless.

Aye. Father’s Day, like so many others
Of the “Hallmark Holidays”, celebrates
One part of society whilst ignoring
The pain and hurt and rejection
Of those whose lives cause them
To live on the other sides of the fence,
Jealous, bitter and hateful of life’s turns.

An original poem – please seek permission before reproducing in any way.