He is my father,
My personal superman
Growing up; To me, invincible
His name, at quarter a century, still makes me sit straighter
His presence, at a quarter century, makes my heart flutter
When I expect him, me, a so-called adult, still stick my nose to the window in anticipation
When I see him, old as I am, I still shamelessly run to the door, skip up and down and call out to him
I still cry when he is leaving
Fetch him water to wash his hands, because my father does not get up for trivial matters
He is the reason I stayed in school, he forgot to mention it is an option
He is the reason I excel in school, I am terrified of his disappointment
Ruled his home with an iron fist
Squelched rebellion before it took root
A dictator in his own right
Once in a while, when i did good, didn’t matter much
Until he smiled