I remember when you were bornA wavy-haired rebelSquealing against our mother’s arms.Now, Small shoes strike cement.A pitter patter in pursuitOf those fiery curls.They follow the flamesFlickering from your head,Unfettered.Don’t blame them for wanting,Chasing.Innocent freedom is a fleeting Godhood,And though you may fall in your play,And grow into the scuffs of age,My Prometheus brother:You do not…