by Doug Heymann
April 11, 2012
Saturday is another day to play
No friends around to have a game of catch
My dad just sits and works from night to day
I realize that our schedules never match
It pains me; oh, he doesn’t seem to care
As times progress, then one of us may die
Forget “the deal!” How ‘bout we clear the air
I’m tough; I’ll never let you see me cry
The weekend’s passed and “the deal” is not done
He’s still on the phone as I head to school
It’s a conversation that’s just begun
He is an idiot, but he’s no fool
I open my binder; what do I see?
Box seat tickets - third base side, Row 3B!