Children come, youth you forget,
Your ever growing personal bet
To be unlike those whom did you beget,
Claiming to change the ways
From those of theirs, to your parental days,
Until your age brings a growing haze;
Believing in power you do not own,
A strength true to those you’ve sown,
To pull you off your mighty throne;
Planning tricks for your pain or joy,
Using you in their own grand ploy,
In the end to you annoy.
Offspring running through the hall,
Choose the time of your downfall
Learn this truth, parents all
For when you age, it’s their turn…
Author notes
Written November 5th, 2004
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Comments
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good poem maaan
muahahahaha... always be nice to your kids, because, when you are old and senile they can and will put you in an icky "retirement" home, which is merely more than a place to wait to die. this was very well written. nice work -
nice work here. You have great word choice and wonerful flow. I love the way you start this, very strong
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