Sorry Pa, I disagree
Lost are words, numb is the feel.
Something's wrong but I can't feel.
On legs I slept as a child,
Shades of his figure, my paradise.
Whose sayings I heard and followed,
Whose believes I reiterated and swallowed.
But here is the generation shift,
Causing a little drift.
My arguing back, having my say,
Sometimes a bit rude, not meant that way.
He likes it not.
I can explain it not.
Lost are words,
Still backing my way
And the grooming he gave.
I believe in him.
So I believe in myself.
My end will justify
The means I employ.
For now, he is right.
And perhaps I am fine.
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