A Secret

Down by the county road

Playing little boy games

Waiting for the school bus

My son looks up and says,

“I want to tell you something,”

I lean down so he can

whisper it in my ear:

Then, “I hate you, Daddy.”

Just to taste the words come out

Just to watch the knife go in

Just to watch my face change

As I feel it.

So don’t tell me that we

Can make it if we try

Because he’s just like his daddy

And his daddy’s just like his.