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Son (Prose Poem) by The Bard
Small eyes tightly closed
wrinked shut through the night.
Resting up for
the morning delight.
Warm smells
kind of sweet.
Small little hands
and soft wee feet.
Lips pursed
with a bubbling blow.
Each breath a wonder
I can see him grow.
Running along
he sprawls awry.
Knees skinned,
beginning to cry.
Lip all a quiver
breath short and fast.
He lets out a wail,
But it does not last.
Swung high and tickled,
he forgets his pain.
Soon he is running
and scooting again.
I hold him up
he pedals in a hurry.
Soon he will ride alone
leaving Da to worry.
Light on the clutch,
easy in the gas.
You're just learning Son,
no need to go fast.
Oh she's a lovely girl,
are you sure you are ready?
Why not give it some time,
keep her your steady?
How handsome you are
How lovely your bride!
What a sight you make,
Standing side by side.
Small eyes tightly closed
wrinked shut through the night.
Oh Son don't go
It's not your fight!
Warm smells
kind of sweet.
But Da, it's all my friends
all from our street.
Lips pursed
with a bubbling blow.
But Son, it's a lie
Please, please don't go.
Running along
he sprawls awry.
Will his Daddy come home?
I start to cry.
Lip all a quiver
breath short and fast.
His life before me
is slowly passed.
Swung high and tickled,
he forgets his pain.
Yet mine is beginning,
will I see him again?
I hold him up
he pedals in a hurry.
Christmas will be bleak
And none will be merry.
Light on the clutch,
easy in the gas.
Oh Son be careful,
make your life last.
Oh she's a lovely girl,
are you sure you are ready?
Da will you come over?
They're coming, I think it's Eddie.
How handsome you were
How lovely your bride!
What a tragic sight,
With a coffin at her side.
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