Dear Father, Poem by Safiyyah Manjra

I would listen to each word they say,
Pick up anything they asked even though it was their arm reach away.
Something was changing as I grew each day.
Little do I listen in the same way.

Why don't I please them anymore?
Why don't they make me smile like they once did before?
Do I sound too immature?

Even though we see them as the care taker,
Maybe wiser,
Sometimes they don't appear that much older.
Yet with the feuds we still wish to have them forever.

Why is it when we say sorry.
They don't reply with even a maybe.
They become somewhat scary.
Meaningless and airy.
Why should such impotence be?

Yes, they are The adult.
So therefore I respect without the guilt.