Italians rub
garlic on their salad bowl,
Before
adding the lettuce and dressing…
Once they
discover you love their child,
You become
their greatest blessing.
They invite
you to family dinners,
Sharing wine bottles on the porch…
They define
you as an Italian brother,
Who proudly
carries the family torch.
Even after
twenty years,
When your
love for their child fails…
You are
still a part of the family,
And all
perks their love avails.
Myself, I
think of their child,
With whom I
no longer speak…
But now I am
part Italian,
And think of
them all every week.
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