Anthology Poem #6 (submitted to Newyorker for contest)

                                                        I know
 

    I know when you remind me of my lunch.
    I know when you warn me of rain.
    I know I always disappoints you because of my marks.
    I know there is still a lot more to learn.

    I will grow up to be an adult sometimes,
    And you can not protect me forever.
    When I finally learned to make lunch myself,
    When I finally be a father,
    When I finally worry about my child's mark,
    And finally tell my child "there is still a lot to learn."

    I will realize your concerns are just another form of love,
    But you may not willing to express those concerns again.