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Whenever I look upon you, son with scorn,
Make note you are with my blood raised and born,
That where you choose to tread, what strides you take,
Will be my inner triumph or my mistake.
What I give you before you seek your way,
As I am bound to do lest I dismay,
I can but hope will set your will to be,
One eager to be confident and free.
'Tis my true mission to help you with your choice,
That when you speak it is with your own voice,
And that your argument is always true and fair,
And that you understand we all must share,
The resources of this world that gives us life,
And the knowledge to overcome its persistent strife.
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