When I was a young boy, My father took me into the city

You might be right.
You just might be.
But you know this, these friends are my family.
I know who's right and wrong
True and False
Just because I falter here and there
Does that make me such an evil person?
Am I half as bad as those who think before they do it
Who know exactly why they do it
Or am I just learning on my own accord
Simply because I find myself bored.

Petty Poetry isn't trying to make light of the subject
It's simply saying that I understand where you're coming from
And all I've ever asked is that, when I need you, you're there.
As for where I go,
You know that I do not even know.



p.s. The post on Father's Day killed me.