Sometimes he seeks apologies
For the solid sulfur which soils
Six of his shirts in as many days;
Dashing his daily sauntering
And his loud snoring.
But the cocky boy chomping
On his Sunday chicken
While saying “I want to be like daddy”
As the mother smiles with her patient eyes,
Became the greatest and final validation
For the choice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
MOM'S just know their kids.