My teenage son and I have been through some rough times. One time, though, we sat down and talked about him wanting to be a music composer. I realized then that the things I have been through as a writer, being discouraged by other, more sensible people, having to defend my art, and not even being believed in by my own family, were the very things that he was talking about. So I wrote a poem about it. The central metaphor is Icarus from classical mythology. I even suggested he use it as lyrics and turn it into a song. Of course he told me how stupid that idea was. So let me put the poem here and see what you think.
Icarus
“You never once believe in me,
You only hear the lie,
You never once believe in me,
You never even try,
You never see the good in me,
You only fear I’ll die,
You never hear words I say,
You never tell me why,
You never care how well I plan,
Or why I touch the sky,
You’ll never even lift me up,
You never let me fly,”
That is how it always was,
Between my dad and I,
Until the day I reached the sun,
And burned my hands on high,
And so it is he’ll never know,
How much his son was worth,
Because he couldn’t understand,
The day
I fell
To Earth.
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