For Phillip
I thought he would be
A spirit of me
Beautiful son that I bore
How could I see
There would be no key
To unlock the steel trap door
I knew in my heart
He would never depart
From the love that he would send
You were wrong, says he
You are not like me
And my soul shall never mend
In hope now I pray
There will come a day
When my son will rise from the gray
Copyright © Diane Garcia | Year Posted 2016
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