Old Man's Son

If your dad waited until he was middle-aged to get married, that makes you an "old man's son".

You were born with a sinus infection,  

A fragile start (felt like confection). 

With cries, the shadows subside?

An old man found his tender pride.

His hands were rough (tested with time),  

But gentle they held you, a rhythm & rhyme.  

His eyes told stories (of splendid grace),  

In your tiny hands, he had found his place.

You grew with the seasons (quite sure),  

Every step a promise, every breath pure.  

He spoke wisdom in calm of night,  

Guiding your dreams, your silent fight.

He taught you strength with his tears,  

How to face the dark, confront your fears.  

In fields of gold and skies so wide,  

An old man's son learned to stride.

Now as years fold like pages well-read,  

You carry his spirit, though he’s long fled.  

In your eyes (the same fire & light),  

A beacon of love, in the darkest night.

You were born with a sinus infection,  

But healed by love "like an invention".

Old man's son (a legacy reboot),

A tale of two, the point isn’t moot.