C is for Can’t



 

They said I can’t open my own successful agency.

They said he can’t make it as an artist.

They say I can’t be in love.

They say he can’t ever be happy with me.

They say I can’t be monogamous.

They say we can’t marry.

They say it can’t work between us.

They say I can’t open another agency in New York and be successful.

They say he can’t sell his work.

They say I can’t be a good father.

“Hey, Grampa Bri, Grampa Jus says to move your skinny ass and get out here. We can’t start to grill without you!” the young man said with a sunny mischievous smile. Brian smiled brightly at his spirited grandson who looked a lot like Gus.

“Never say can’t, Sonny Boy. Never say can’t,” Brian replied as he followed his grandson out of his office in Britin and into the yard to join his family.

 

Feedback for Sabina

or email to snrn@nyc.rr.com    
 

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