Like Father... Poem by Francie Lynch

He drapes an arm around anyone's shoulder
In every shot I've seen;
It leads your eyes along his arm
To his eyes, a vanity trick,
Like a narcis-stick.

He often grows some facial hair,
And wears a logo shirt,
Every thought is well-planned out,
To push his latest scheme.

I attended his wedding,
The first I've ever seen,
Where the groom draws more attention,
Than any bride could dream.

She wore an oyster-colored dress,
With a train six feet long;
While she was walking up the aisle,
The groom broke into song.

Then they had a child,
A boy, now thirteen,
He throws his arm around his dad
To be the centre of the scene.