035: A Prodigal Son? Poem by Colin Johnston

To have a Son who wastes his Life,
To have a Son that causes strife.
Performs no functions, gives no hand.
That is hard to understand.
Loved and nurtured all his Days,
Not rejected for his Ways.
Why is it that he won’t conform?
Work and Help, become the Norm.

What is it that he wants to be?
Get of the Dole, go to Sea?
Or be a Poet, Playwright, Architect,
Accountant, Manager or Cook,
If their too hard he could select
To help his parents with their Life,
Yet, even that does not suffice

He can’t construe that it’s not right
To laughingly, waste away his Life
Or does he think that he is owed,
To just do nothing ‘till he’s old,

Motivation, that’s no problem,
Drink or Cards, hr doesn’t dodge them.
But, cleaning, cooking or the rest
Forget them, they're just a jest.

When they are old and infirm
Can’t admonish or condemn,
Will he then take care of them?
Or will he say, sorry, got to go
I’ve got to get a job, you know! …

To S…,

Colin J… 14th Aug.2010

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