I'm turning into my father I am so much like him Will I be 27 before I date again I want to kiss my father I want to hold his hand We could trade secrets on which we'd let no one in I want learn what I don't know about him Share what I have not shared Which is no short order We will be met with cold chipped shoulders Encouraging us to stay our hands They will say "Shhhhh! Don't be so loud! Don't draw attention to yourself! Don't talk with your hands! Don't act like you like each other in public! Don't stick out like sore thumbs! What would we do if you raised the bar On father/son relations We'd look so bad! We're already so sub par" I do not know you half as well as I'd like And we live so far away We could trade stories And uncover common hopes and neuroses God, I am just like you, aren't I