A child is a selfish little brute,
her every thought and feeling ego-framed,
imagining she’s other than the fruit
of reproduction, parent-caused and -named.

And she continues selfish as she grows
so even as a parent she’s a kid,
who sees your life in terms of what she knows,
collects approval, bristles when you bid,
and won’t release you from your fatherhood,
which gave dimension to her, and still does.

But she’ll admit she’s grateful for the good
you tried to furnish her, and too because
by caring for your body, mind, and soul
you lent her you, and helped her life be whole.