sometime after Father's Day

Dad, do you LIKE me
How would I know
I suppose that you LOVE me
'Least it's supposed to be so

You told me just once
I was little - remember?
That memory I've fanned
like a precious ember

But now you're too old
to change your way
and without being told
We know there's nothing to say

The ember is cold
and covered in ash
there's nothing to hold
save an emotional gash

Will I be the same?
Will my children wonder?
was it all just a game
or generational blunder?