A long day at work, they called inventory just to hear us count
A lonely ride at 4 a.m. kept company by a stale cheeseburger
Running on fumes, it’s just too cold to get gas
There’s a difference between bloodshot and blurry
So I watch the lines carefully as I swerve home
I feel bad for being responsible so I come baring gifts
Fewer items in the hand, and the door wouldn’t be so damn loud
Worlds collide as I walk in
The house is silent and it’s startling to a paranoid mind
Immediately I check the caller ID for a cause
Clear coasts allow me to set sail for upstairs
With each step helium voices rise
A little giggle and a commercial break
Brought to you by the folks who electronically baby-sit
I pass the pink room to follow my senses
Only to have everyone of them fail seconds later
He looks up thru hair that isn’t mine
Genetic traits I never passed on purpose
His smile full of the innocence I want back
He has a mug that’s cracked at the handle
The chocolate milk mustache rats him out
A couple of pesky kids just unmasked a villain
But his vision never breaks
Behold the only business
That can break me
I sit on top of Ninja Turtle covers
To poke myself with G.I. Joes
He laughs a little because he’s tired
“I made you this…” he says softly
As he pulls a paper from a hidden crevice
It’s creased
And it looks days old
“I made it while you were gone…” He pauses
“This last time.” It penetrates
In soft crayola a family sits inside a house
A triangle on a square containing his life
The Mother is beautiful and the kids aren’t fighting
There are two dogs, and two cats
A Papa who’s always down the hall
There’s family portrait in the background
Justification that I exist
“It’s us waiting for you to come home” He explains
He points out that in the picture on the wall
We’re wearing the same thing,
“Twinners” is what our family calls it
He’s tells me he wont be mad if I forget to put it on the fridge
Then he curls up and rests his head in my lap
Only to sleep moments later
The things I don’t deserve can fill pages just like these
Unknowingly he wants to be like his Daddy
Tears glisten differently in the shadows of cartoons
And hair between fingers means so much more when it’s family
The soft part of his check calms me down
And as I drift off in the warm part of a car bed
I have to ask myself
With my world in my hands
Why in God’s creation
Does this little boy
Want to be
Anything
Like me