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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=551788" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Evesdropping</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=551788" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">We sit outside<br>Overlooking the lake, <br>And the suburbs across the lake, <br>As the sun turns everything golden<br>Waiting for our ernest young waiter<br>To bring us our dinner.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=551788" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">At the table behind me is a father<br>And his teenage son.<br>This moment of intimacy <br>between father and son<br>Is what my son<br>With his anger <br>Has denied me<br>I think bitterly.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=551788" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The son is telling his father<br>About a girl <br>He loves but who, <br>Even though she likes him, <br>Also sleeps with his friends.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=551788" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The father sits quietly and drinks his scotch<br>He has had several more <br>By the time dessert arrives.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=551788" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">By now I am thinking <br>'Thank you son for your anger<br>And your silence.'<br>At least I am spared<br>Your recounting of<br>The painful nonsense<br>Of youth.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Allan+Thorne">Allan Thorne</a></strong></div>