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Similar features stretched across
the chasm of years

A generation of separation,
a masterful re-creation

An intentional tear in the
space-time continuum

A careful filtering of flesh, a divine
dance of dilution

Shaping the essence of the father
into someone new

And yet…

The son is not a clone honed into sameness

He cannot simply be a copy

He must be himself no matter how much
he loves his father

And so, the son sheds the father’s skin

Not a rejection of him, but a
specific selection

Of what he wants to claim, over
what cannot remain

But it’s the father who takes the strain

Embracing the pain of the loss
of his little boy

Welcoming this strange and unfamiliar
young man

Loving this new creation

All the while knowing that one day
his turn will come 

And he too will be left undone

As is every father who loves his growing son.

I wrote this poem when my son suddenly grew up and started to become his own person—no longer a child but becoming a man, much to the discomfort but eventual joy of both myself and his father.

WORDS Jules Badger  |  ART Sam Coates

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