The fireflies flirted with the dark Giving eyes to the shadows. It was them who had seen Me sneak into Mr. Gramintz’s yard And swipe his golf club. A different set of flashing lights Now flood the driveway; I remember it clearly, The changing colors Striking my father’s face. In the corner was my shame, Poorly hidden. His child; cursed child. He stood, his legs broad trunks Anchored to the ground - A mountain would’ve moved Before he did that night. Cursed child; the worst child. He stood, not once Did he move.

I had broken a cardinal rule, But, I would’ve grown to be Cruel had I been thrown to The wolves that night. That night my father humbly knew, Without a thought for his own self, He would take the fall before I do.