I’m proud with the way you are, the way you’ll ever make it.
You aren’t often shaved, from time to time unkempt.
You wash your hands just every time you happen to
Shake hands with each and every earthly man.
You aren’t perfect, but it doesn’t matter,
I take my pride in you when seeing what you’ve done.
You are a grown up man, you are no child, no longer,
I used to care so much and cherish once.
Your manly manners say farewell to childhood,
When I was happy seeing you grow up.
You speak your mind, you’re strict, you are intolerant,
No longer little boy that I adored so much.
You never, never let me stroke your hair,
And always shy endearing words I say.
I cared so much for you when you were toddler,
I love, I'm proud of you – a grown up man.
I’m proud of you, my son, you’re still my baby,
I’m proud of you – oh, you, a grown up man,
I‘m happy with the way you look, the way you’ll ever make it,
God help you in your ways, as parents would have.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2011
About this poem:Talking in comments about pride and about being proud.