me? Like why can't you be
as intelligent or being so
focused on education like
me?
Son: I have no idea what you are
talking about.
Pops: I wanna know what's wrong
with you.
Son: You would never understand
pops you just would not be
able to handle the truth.
Pops: I'm listening....
Son: (deep sigh) I have tried my
best to be myself but every
time we speak you carry on
about why I'm not like so and
so. I'm tired of you making
me seem like a misfortune. I
get up everyday with issues
and nightmares I have to
worry about. Why do I have to
be like you? I mean your my
father and all but I was born
to be different. I can't help
that. I was given a voice,
artistic skills, intelligence,
athletic vibe and a creative
mindset. The only thing that
holds us together is our last
name and roots.
Pops: Now I see. I can careless
about your talents or gifts.
You should be better than
most of the kids I know
being that I am a
professional. I don't want
you to make any mistakes. I
wanna see you succeed.
Son: If you wanted me to succeed
then you would let me make
mistakes and learn from
them. That's the whole
purpose of life. You watch
and learn putting you in the
position to rise on your feet
once again.
Pops: That makes no sense at all.
Son: Pops your not listening to me.
Pops: Why should I?
Son: I am trying to make a valid
point.
Pops: What point?
Son: (deep breath once more)
Nevermind. Walks out the
room. He's done with the
conversations with his pops
because it doesn't go anywhere.
He is now setting his life in a
position whereby he can be able
to live on his own and succeed.
He is itching to prove his
doubters wrong. He then prays.
Turns off the light and goes to
bed. He lays there til he shuts
his eyes.
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