Father image of stories told,
Arms that would not give.
I was young, and he was old,
I wanted free to live.
No matter the place, nor what I did,
His shadow followed me.
To him, I would always be a kid.
He could not set me free.
Sadly then, I rang the bell
And we began to fight.
I slipped away from his magic spell
And into my silent night.
I didn't know that when we fought
It would all turn out so bad.
I know now that what I sought
Was to be just like dad.
GWB, Gordon William Bain
October, 2003.
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