Prom Poem for Papa John...

Dad, can we talk?

Sure, what's up son?

Well, I wanted to talk to you about the prom weekend...

What about it?

Well, you know that it's tradition after the Prom night everybody goes down to the shores for the weekend... even Collin did it, you know.

Yeah, so?

Well, me and Christine and a bunch of people are planning on renting a house and wanted to stay there until Monday.

Excuse me? Until Monday? You mean from Friday all the way to Monday? Isn't Monday a school day?

Yeah but dad, all seniors cut school on that Monday...

Why can't you just come back on Sunday night? I think Collin came back next day on Saturday after his prom.

But dad, Collin didn't have any friends...

What do you mean Collin didn't have any friends? He had a lot of friends. He had Russell, Kevin Boyce, and what was that other boy's name?

Come on dad...

How many of you are going?

About twenty to twenty-five...

Twenty to Twenty-five? Are you kidding me? Is there going to be a chaperone?

No there won't be a chaperone, and dad, I want to be perfectly honest that there will probably be some alcohol.

"There will probably be some alcohol?"

Well, most likely.

So let me see if I got this straight. There will be twenty to twenty-five high school seniors, boys and girls, under one roof for three nights and four days, no chaperone, and there will be lots of alcohol?

No dad, there won't be "lots" of alcohol...

Well, why didn't you say so... that makes all the difference.

Dad, you gotta trust me.

I trust you but it's the situation, the circumstances, which can make the smartest people do the stupidest things.

Dad, we won't do anything stupid, I promise.

Common sense tells me that it's way way too long. I'm inclined to say no but I will think about it.

Dad, I'm about to go to college pretty soon and you know, both you and mom will have to let me go at some point...

Speaking of college, if you want to help your cause, I have a great idea. Why don't you start practicing your writing skills by writing your Papi a letter.

A letter? What kind of letter?

Instead of me asking you a million questions about what you'll be doing at the shore, write me a letter.

About what? About how much I love you? You already know that Dawg!

I want you to tell me what kind of man you think you are right now and what kind of man you want to be. Something simple, nothing fancy, just something for you to think about...

Who am I?
I don't know.
I know I am satisfied, happy, and content.
But that's my nightmare.

I am a wandering caterpillar waiting to be hardened.
I am a lost bird looking for its flock.
I am a rose in a field of daisies.

Who am I?
I don't know.
My cell is hard and keeps me locked in,
And I am just waiting until my sentence is over.

Or should it be?

The shell around my heart is cracked with the things I lack.
Appreciation, dependence, love, compassion, and desire.
The fire burns...but only for so long.

The mountain peak that I think I am on,
Just keeps getting higher and higher,
A farther clime, a never-ending climb.

I am a lab experiment gone wrong,
Ready to experience the rest of my life.

Love your neighbors as you would like to be loved,
The hole that you dig up for me, give me the hope I need,
To come out victorious and shine in peace and patience.
The kindness you shine on the poor, the helpless, the needy, the enemy,
Put the goodness on me.
Let me know my identity.
The faithfulness of my loved ones, companions and you.
Let me be a knight in your bright and shining armor.
Cleanse me in your gentleness, make me a fragile piece of work.
But most importantly, keep my composure.
The face of gambler, the heart of a lion, self controlling and protecting his ground.
Feed me with your fruits.