Father

Hello, my son, how have you been?

The man before me used to be ten.

Sit on my lap to catch up on years;

I’ll wash away fears with childhood tears.

When you were a boy you’d childly pout,

And I’d be there to help you out.

But time we lost and memories I saved;

Half your height now I saw you wave.

Goodbye to the boy tying his shoes,

Replaced by a stranger watching the news.

A new son all over, the same by name,

With innocence lost to the grown up game.

Ashes to ashes and bike to car,

Though you’re here it’s still too far.

You’re always my son, flesh and bone,

And seconds from now you’ll have your own.

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 The above was my first "serious" attempt at poetry around the age of 16.