Grandma’s Fond Farewell
Your gossamer lies are a shortcut to hell.
I can see right through them, I know you so well.
You’re strung out on acid or some new equivalent.
After so much of this, I’ve grown ambivalent.
As you heft up your back pack to strap to your bike,
I’m relieved that you’re finally taking a hike.
The fact that you’re storming out suits me just fine.
Let your dad deal with his son like I dealt with mine!!!