We must become our dads.
It's written in our genes
Upon the elasticated waist of time.
Our children are our near-rhymes;
Our sons and daughters,
Our sins of laughter,
An ancient echo alive in a river
Cutting through a canyon,
Carving a wasteland
From living rock.
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About Me
- Kidcobbler
- Spent nine months dreaming on my back. Opened up new horizons, if only horizontal. Woke up disabled, with a Blue Badge and bed hair. Walk with a limp and a stick. Cue the double entendré and the stick. Saving money on shoes. Spending it on thoughts. Overdrawn at the creative bank. Loan facility disabled. The irony! Stronger through weakness. Weaker through slogans. New journeys to be taken. Pop along. I'm off my back. I'm back.
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