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He was the spitting image of the child not denied anything
What's spoiled, stays spoiled for good
The adult is goofy, juvenile, and immature
And he made a mess of the responsibilities physical adulthood brings
He gives forth the lessons of a parent with a divided soul and noticeable insincerity
He never grew up, doesn't hold a job for very long, is drunk a lot and high sometimes too
A marriage doesn't last long unless a husband in this position is wealthy
He has all the affectations and bad habits of wealth but none of the wealth itself
Their latest rental house has come with a little workshop in back where he can do woodcarving
He doesn't share this with his kids and he poops in the woods so he doesn't have to come into the house
There was always someone else to pick up the tab
And so he feels an equal lack of concern for those close to him and the quality of their life together
There's a story we remember about the long, unkempt beard he always wears
About how when he was a child he was allowed to play with dangerous fireworks and one went off in his face
When they found him later, someone commented it was like his whole face was had been moved to one side
Read what you want into that, there is no rationalizing the useless
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem