To see your parents
In the sunshine of youth,
To be there as they play:
All the innocence
You’d never associate them with,
Who gave your adolescence
That special mould
You’ll never be able to lose.
Think of all the times
You’ve cursed their characters
Without actually knowing them,
Because they wanted this or forbade that;
Think of all the misunderstandings
When you wanted to do something
They couldn’t understand
And you accused them for all the wrong reasons.
Wouldn’t it help your confidence
To know where they made mistakes?
Wouldn’t it take the sting out of controversies
When you’d have seen their youth —
An instance of the privacy
You’ll never get into?
Wouldn’t it increase the possibilities
Of your life with and relation to them?
Wouldn’t it create a whole new tenderness
To have gotten a glimpse of their youth?
