Father

When we are face to face,
And I look directly at you,
It's almost like looking at my own
reflection in the mirror
I echo your phrases
I copy your humor
I repeat your gestures
as my own,
Without any intention to do so
I'm so much like you,
I see myself in you,
and you in myself
Created in your image,
Born from your seed
You are my Father,
Yet we are no more than
casual aquaintences...
How ironic

poem by Erika Wingo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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