Boyhood Fantasy
The anticipation of his arrival
Life lessons learned on the playground
Heart breaking defeats on the chessboard
Long walks between houses
The joy, yet fear, of love
All this before eight
His first child
I seek to be like him
A child to grow, the responsibility
Yet, the direction provided was always accurate
Even in times of disbelief
I can sense the pride I have given him
All I can try to do is reciprocate
I rise every morning, with the hopes of life
And sleep with it's joy
I may not follow in every footstep,
But I know he has paved my way, and I'm glad
He is my father,
Yet, I can not call him Dad.

A.J. Dinardo 04/14/1999