Welcome to the World of Men (My Bar Mitzvah)

The entire year
before that coming day,
my father used to smile and say,
Today I am a fountain pen,
and laugh and laugh and laugh.
The joke had flown by overhead
like ducks
that to the south had fled,
announcing coming cold.
Welcome to the world of men,
it meant.
No longer was I living with a band of boys
whose days were filled with giggles, shrieks,
and play with toys,
where carefree summer days
were spent inside a child’s daze,
and where the tender side of boys
was on display.
No longer were allowed
the pencil mark mistakes
that parents could easily erase,
or could be scribbled over
by a simple, I am sorry.
Now slips with ink were made,
and the debt was then repaid
by actions of repentance and forgiveness.
This was a world
where wrongs were made to right
by having that same place in sight,
then choosing, a better way to go.
Welcome to the world of men.
Today I am a fountain pen.

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