Poet Son



poet son
by Mick Tomlinson


I often ponder your God.
I often question the things you taught me
to have faith in.
I often let you down
without you ever knowing it.
I pretend to be a better son,
but my imagination is growing thin
and my heart is growing older, mother.
I love you,
but I've strayed so far away
the trees now resemble neat tricks
planted to confuse me.
I write words
that replace what my heart feels,
I create stories
that make people laugh and cry.
I am your poet son,
a spot on the couch where Christmas sat,
a deserted dinner table.
I love you,
but this adult world
does nothing for me, it makes me
gag and tremble
and yearn for something else.
you raised me well, mother
for I am wise beyond my years,
but scared to let you down.

Comments

  1. Excellant! Glad to see you are back to writing poetry again. Never let anyone stop you from doing what you love.

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  2. This is a very sobering poem. I love it. Good Job Mick. We all have doubts and none of us want to grow up.

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