My kids are drifting away from me...
Like lifeboats from a shipwreck.
I speak with them, long distance, on the phone...
consisting of cursory conversations
Like 'Hi, Dad, i'm home', 'School was fine',
'Goodbye Dad', 'I love you to, Dad'.
Some bully called my little boy, Dylan,
a cry baby, and I was not there
As he tearfully cried, 'I AM NOT! '.
Brandon's learning to stand on his own, knowing,
that alone, he'll grow to become a man.
God, they're both my left and right lungs;
Brandon, the larger and Dylan, the smaller one.
Seeing them both, is like taking a deep breath
and holding it, for fear there will not be another one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very much liked this. Some nice alliteration (c-c-c) , a lovely metaphor and a heartfelt message. -chuck