A Reluctant Son Poem by Mark Heathcote

You can't indoctrinate me, Lord
I won't listen, father or ever learn.
You can't brainwash me, Lord
You won't quiet or dull me in taciturn.

You can't programme me, Lord
I am not a diminishing shadow on your wall
You can't command me, Lord
I'm not a Labrador father, lay on your floor.

You can't expedite my comings or goings-Lord
I will leave when-I-please!
You can't instruct me of anything-Lord
At least not-until, I'm down on my knees.

You see Lord; I'm a free spirit, a free-soul
And, I simply won't be pigeonholed.
But if I do die, take pity on my soul.
Lord, a prodigal son requires at least one good home.