Cheviot, in the chimes of streetlights and children,

They walk down the cracked and crooked sidewalks.

No care In the world

To school

To the Cone Zone that was to the left of West Side Tires, and not to the right!

And ZipDip, if you wanted to be extra...

I remember being like that, 

At least before we moved.

My childhood house

Is now dirtied with the faults of its irresponsible renters

And their wet and sticky, stinky dogs and children

And drunk, drug ridden buffoons.

Those white, practically shag, carpets are now

Drenched in filth

And the absence of love by said buffoons…

Blood, and Coffee, and Beer, and definitely the Urine and Feces of neglected canines

Half-assed cleaned-up.

From infant to ten

I was able to keep this house more cleanly

And more loved than they ever could.

There was more to Cheviot than just that house…

Playing with the neighbour kids

Only wishing with our whole bodies

That we would hear the Turkey in the Straw.

Sometimes, we would be so busy having fun to have missed the Ice Cream Truck!

“One Sonic Pop, Please!”

I always took off the eyes of gum

And saved them for last

Because why would you try to eat ice cream and chew gum at the same time?

“When those streetlights go on, your ass better be inside for dinner! God, help you!”

I lived by those words

Abided by them.

No longer do they concern me, but moms voice will never be absent.

The one thing I could’ve ever asked for

Was a father more involved in my life…

Work was consistent,

And genuine family time was... not very much

I was lucky to eat supper with him

And possibly watch King of the Hill or American Dad before bedtime.

Bedtime to another morning with no father to root me on for kindergarten

Or first grade

Or the second, or third

And so on.

Even at my smallest, you spent your time serving 

But not in the way I ever thought you did…

And now, today

Three to four simple words

That are easily accumulated in the sentence of a kindergartener

Would make my lifetime, and encourage me forever.

“I love you” / “I’m proud of you”

Your friends

And your girlfriends

And your parents

Apparently know all about me, right?

But I am truly clueless to how you love and feel about me.

I love you, but I do not

And maybe never will

Understand you.

Thank you for doing all you did

Just for me (at first)

And still do for me (us)

Because I know, it was all for us.

Always

For us.