Letter To My Unborn Poem by Ibn Ali

I'm sorry I had you so late in life,
Your mother and I met at a later stage in life,
Thoughts of you kept me awake at night,
Sometimes,
I think of all the wisdoms I could say and I
Tell you not to speak to strangers,
Be careful who you call a friend,
Always tell the truth my child
Even if against yourself,
My unborn child,
I'd love you the same
Whether you became a doctor or cleaner,
I raised you to be good to people,
Show this in your demeanour,
I'd love to be your friend,
But I have to be a father first,
I'll try not to smack you,
But if I do, know that it's well deserved,
Love hurts for you, I see it, but for me it's worse,
I have to be the bad guy,
Your mother gets the hugs and kisses,
I have to be that guy:
'No fun until you do revision'
Still we have good times,
I taught you how to box,
Played footy in the park,
Come home late to dinner,
The grimace on your mother,
We break out in fits of giggles,
She tells me: 'Don't you start'
It's nothing that a kiss won't fix,
I picture this, framed with pine
So it's strong and safe in mind,
All the mistakes I've made,
I've tried to filter out of yours,
But you're free to make your own,
You, you're not your father's clone.