message from my son that i'm
not a good father,
never was and never
will be.
i expect it
with his mother in
his ear
poisoning the well
he drinks from.
it's an annual thing.
i listen, i nod. i make
a mild attempt to defend
myself.
but what's the point.
it puts me
in the holiday mood
again.
the one i grew up with.
i guess i still won't get
my wings,
with the ringing of the bell.
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