There is no poem long enough

To describe the closest person to me.

His words spewing out of his mouth like a racecar

As he tells the hard times of growing up. 

And the many disagreeing debates

Between that stubborn man and I,

Eventually leading to me always being wrong

Because, even though he would never admit it,

I can always hear him saying,

"It's my way or the highway."

Yet there's a side to him 

That most people don't get to see.

He is there to make a good day even greater

And a bad day seem not so blue.

We spend hours laughing and making jokes

As he tells me everytime,

"Twenty-thousand comedians out of work

And you're trying to become one."

He's taught me that you dont get anywhere in life

Without hard work, dedication, and respect.

And over the past seventeen years

I can say without a doubt

He's molded me into the person I am today.