This Son of a Gun | Teen Ink

This Son of a Gun

February 4, 2011
By Grania PLATINUM, Portland, Maine
Grania PLATINUM, Portland, Maine
33 articles 0 photos 79 comments

Well, this son of a gun
had some kids, and he named them
Vini, Vidi, and Vici.
And he smiled with pride
at his imported bride,
(a gift for not being too preachy)
and her hand, it was raised,
like they taught her in school
(education is really a bastion.)
But he let her hand stay
and called it a salute
(and forgot there was ever a question.)
So, he looks at his sons,
and they sit on his knee,
and he tells them he has
words of wisdom.
To thine own self be true,
he says, first and foremost,
and then, give thanks
for what you were given;

your daddy’s real rich
and your mamma’s real pretty
and she holds up the light
for the world’s hippest city.
And the planet’s your playground,
but don’t be a meanie
(unless they got something you need.)
Come here, Vini.
There’s something important that you gotta know;
when you’ve made a real mess,
that’s your signal to go.
When you’ve got what you needed but get sudden doubt
I am telling you, son, that’s the time to pull out.
Have you got it? All right.
Come here, Vidi, now you.
With them big, round, eyes,
kinda bloodshot, but blue.
I am proud of you, son,
though you’ve always been odd,
staring out at the sky
like you’re x-raying God.

My advice to you, son,
is to just move real slow,
and to help out your brothers,
but not too much, y’know?
Just tell them what they need,
don’t let time go to waste,
cause, well, how do I say this?
You can be replaced.

Now our hero will chuckle
At his funny joke
And he’ll kick up his feet and crack open a coke
And he’ll say in a voice that’s just swollen with joy,
Three guesses who will be the next lucky boy!
And he’ll take on his lap the small trinity’s latter
And tell him he’s a stud and he couldn’t be gladder.

But have you seen your mother?
She’s at work, I guess.
You know, I swear it’s making her fat and depressed.
But no matter, let’s get to the business at hand,
Little Vici, my boy, you are almost a man.
Now the Romans, God bless them,
they lived for today
Carpe dooem, my son, and above all, be fray.
You’re the alpha of all these dogs,
Don’t forget. The more that they argue,
the more they get bit.
So let loose, let them know just whose presence they’re in,
cause you’re better and stronger; you deserve to win.

Now go forth, my fine boys. Stay in line, don’t forget!
And be home before dinner, cause you’re cooking it.

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