Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Grand Dad

My children seem like strangers, I don't know them anymore

They hug me, call me Dad and such; still I am not sure

Is this man my long lost son who moved out on his own?

I must admit, he looks a lot like the pictures we have shown

He recalls forgotten deeds and words I believe I did not say

And tells me of some silly prank I played one April Fool’s Day

He has children of his own, whom he puts in "Grandpa's" lap

Or allows to run around full tilt while I try to take a nap

That sweet, young thing he brought today, tried to call me Dad

She kissed my cheek and hugged my neck; I know when I've been had

Children grow up physically, their number don't increase

And when they get out on their own, a parent's job should cease

I know I'm getting older and my memory's going fast

Soon I'll be too old to care; this misery can't last

They tag me with some silly name and think I'll act the part

Then, just because I'm feeble, they try to break my heart

I can't help that I love kids with rosy, cherub cheeks

Or that I miss them when they go for days or even weeks

My life's been full and happy, and sure, I complain a lot

But never call me "GRAND" Dad, that good, I know, I'm not

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