At What Point
The moment you were born, I promised you what I could. That you would be allowed to be yourself, no matter where you stood.
As my thoughts are absorbed with you, pondering to myself, and wondering when did I break the promise that I once dealt.
Do I want for you to be more than you are meant to be, or do I allow you to be yourself, for you and not for me?
Dreaming the dreams I have for you, but only in my selfish bliss, and searching through the stars without knowing what to wish.
At what point do I say to you, you are the finest you can be; please don't change a bit because you are perfect to me?
At what point do I relish in all the things that you've achieved and say goodbye to that little boy, the one I wanted you to be?
At what point do I change my dreams to accommodate you better? Just take my hand and come with me, because we can dream together.
I love you, Bradley.

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