Cut Grass

When I was a teenager,
my dad would want me to cut the grass.
I did, and most of the time I would bag the cuttings.
Sometimes, if the grass was short enough
I wouldn’t need the bag.
When I would finish,
people from the neighborhood would stop by
and compliment me on how the yard looked.

Then my dad would come home.
He complained that it wasn’t cut right.
That I should have bagged the grass better.
He would complain about something
that was done different
than his liking.
I resented him for years.
He was never home,
and was a workaholic.
He enjoyed working
and then coming home
just to complain
and belittle.
It ended up being his greatest lesson.
He taught me that the world is cruel.
You could feel as though you did a great job,
but a boss
may not feel the same.

Now that I am older
I realized he was right.
The world is cruel.
I have given everything
in my jobs,
my love life,
and my writing.
All end up in rejections.
Some were written,
and some were left in a voicemail,
but many were in person.

After so many,
the hurt went away
and persistence took over.
I may write something
and it will be rejected.
A girlfriend will breakup with me
saying there has to be someone better.
The job,
where I went above and beyond
only to watch others get praise.

I know now
that I didn’t need that kind of lesson
when I was a teenager.
I needed a father.
Someone to believe in me.
It is something I never had,
which made me doubt myself,
even now.
It was in the cut grass.

┬ęCopyright 2014 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved

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