A Father's Day Poem

He looks upon his son, a gangly teenager
Hair long, wavy, unkempt
Slacks too big, junk bulging out the pockets
And shirt too small pulled tight across his chest
Innocence in his smile and demeanor, unsure of himself

How he wishes he had been there for this child’s life!
To nurture and direct, to make strong and grow

But it was not his life to plan, no
He was a mere pawn on someone else’s board
Stripped of his title, unrecognizable he moves about his child’s world
An oddity, out of place, unsure of himself
So little he knows of the being he created, so little anyone tells of him

How he wants to offer the world to him and how often he is rejected
How he yearns for a fair chance in life

He wants only to touch him, hold him up in his hands for all the world to see
To say See here what I have made and given to you, this is mine too
But mother and child hold on to each other and cast a suspicious eye
It is the mother’s place to decide a mate and father but it is not always one
She did not expect a challenge to her right
And the boy will never call him Dad