Single Dad

Behind this mask, a man who isn't much.
My cats and kids alike, in perfidy, betray
Me so. They fall into my lap and purr,
Revealing that I'm not the titan I had
Hoped you'd think I am. They indicate
That I am soft. I'd meant to make it seem
As if I'm hard, but, now, I know I can't.
Is all this domestic bliss? It isn't, but it
Indicates that I am not a man of men.
I'm only what they let me be: an easy mark,
A mommy/dad, while you, possessed of regal
Beauty, want a warrior. Mark my words,
Your gloss may fade, as beauty does, into
Domestic dowdiness, and you will see that he
Who wears the apron also wins the war.
The cats and kids, the little shits, have shown
You what I am. I may be less than what you'd
Hoped, but, in the end, it isn't hairy heroes
Who are what you need. It is the weasel
Wearing slippers, tending to the creatures
In his lap.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 25 times
Written on 2010-03-09 at 15:20

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