A hurricain for my son an then some...

Have at it Son...


And....

Dark paths turn streets around, seems you never find a way.
Narrow paths take you less as far but in the end you find a straight.

Willow roads are wanton but,
sparrows fly among them.

Short change is still short change and no sin will be forgotten.

You are my son and I love you so but no beacon lights the way.
Take a breath now son and express yourself, become the man as you were made...

Love,,,
Dad