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I called my Dad at work today
Just thought he’d like to know
How much I like this summer day
To work though he must go

Some lemonade at lunch I sit
Beneath the old oak tree
The bees and butterflies they drift
Upon the summer breeze

I dip my toes into the stream
And watch the leaves float by
The clouds drift lazily above
As summer paints the sky

My Dad is silent on the phone
I can, though, hear him breathe
It sounds more like a sobbing sound
A tangled web we weave

I do not understand adults
Especially ones that work
Just called to share my day with Dad
He seemed to go berserk


I was thinking back to when I was a kid and how it is to be an adult... and the different perspectives. Hmmm.

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