Scribblings

Son

Son,
I see the same element of need
For solitude to glean from real
The truth,
That I've only just learned, 
Not always my knee to bend to.

I worry that the weight
Might be too much to bear,
For such a gentle soul
As you.

I worry I could lose you,
To all the tricks and traps,
The mind may produce
When in the state of dream,
With imagination free, let loose.

For this world is not so kind,
To those who live through the fable.
You have not the jagged armor,
On my outside, I have hardened.

But I promise,
I'm always here for you,
Even when my better words
Are only apt,
With pen and paper.
I wish with all my heart,
For you to know,
I'm proud of
Who you are
And the man you'll soon become.