A smirk on his chin,
by Warren Augustus de Guzman
He threw me a line.
What is it that you wish to do?
He made my head spin,
Now? Must I reply?
Sooner or later you’ll have to.
Must you always ask these questions?
Of what tomorrow will bring?
When you always make suggestions,
As to what it is I should be doing.
And when I pursue my actions,
You call me ‘fool! ’ for babbling.
Why do I even bother,
Tired Son talking to father.