The fireflies flirted with the dark

Giving eyes to the shadows.

It was them who had seen

Me sneak into Mr. Gramintz’s yard

And swipe his golf club.

A different set of flashing lights

Now flood the driveway;

I remember it clearly,

The changing colors

Striking my father’s face.

In the corner was my shame,

Poorly hidden.

His child; cursed child.

He stood, his legs broad trunks

Anchored to the ground -

A mountain would’ve moved

Before he did that night.

Cursed child; the worst child.

He stood, not once

Did he move.

I had broken a cardinal rule,

But, I would’ve grown to be

Cruel had I been thrown to

The wolves that night.

That night my father humbly knew,

Without a thought for his own self,

He would take the fall before

I do.