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2004-12-27 - 11:46 a.m.

so amy wanted me to write a poem for her father for christmas. and i did.
but i didn't want to. i've never met him, rarely hear anything good about him (he left her mom while she was pregnant. if there's anything that makes me lose complete respect for you, it's not taking care of your child.)
so i wrote it on christmas morning in this tired sleepy hazy and emailed it to her and later she said it was "okay."
no more poems for her, eh.

When you are born you know nothing
of your parents. Who they are or
what they like is beyond you.
It is only through your mother
or your father picking you up
repeatedly, cradling you
against them, that you learn
this person is a safe person.
This person is warm,
takes care of me,
loves me.

You haven't always been there
to pick me up. Things change,
however, and maybe, now,
you are starting to cradle me
and show me that there is
one more safe place for me.

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