My Son And Me Poem by Randy McClave

All that my son will ever think about
Will be the money for him that I have spent,
And for missing that luxury alone he will pout
He won't even pray or care if I am heaven sent.
He will remember the places that I have taken him
And all the presents and gifts for him which I have bought,
I was at his beckoning call for his every whim
But, for my presence alone, he truly had never sought.
The only time that he ever visited or called me
Is when he needed money, or a gift for him I needed to buy,
But, for gifts or money for me, from him it was never free
So, God please tell what have I don't wrong, and why.

Randy L. McClave