It was just a look, upon his face,
But whenever I saw it, I knew my place.
Popi never hit me, he didn't have to.
Just a look on his face, told me what to do.
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Beautifully written, Juan, and I instilled that same look in the memories of my children. All I had to do was look and they understood. A great poem. Lynn
Aww I know that look too, I saw it on my grandma's face many times, it is the look that deserves respect, you write so beautifully.
Wonderful words, showing great love and respect. Very nicely done.