May I Be Old

I have experience with angry parents.

Parents who wished for another life.
Parents who wanted something more, something different.
Parents whose dream for their children was something other than what occurred.

But angry children are a new breed.

He wants more.
More than I can offer.
More than what I can allow.
More than I am willing to give.

How can I requisition one and refuse another?
How can I excuse the former and subdue the later?
How can I pretend that my wishes supersede those of another?
How can I prioritize?

He is small, but he is real.
I am large, and I am real as well.
He is young, and he is growing,

May I not be stagnant.

May all be well and kind.
May all be well and kind.

May I remember that I was once small.

May I remember that I may soon be old.

May we all be as we are.

May we all be well together.

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