My little one, I never knew,
Yet love thee all the same;
Thy life was but a morning dew,
That vanished as it came.
Thy mother felt thy spirit near,
A tremble, soft and slight;
Then silence wrapped the world in fear,
And stole our joy to night.
I dreamed of guiding tender feet,
Of laughter through our days;
Of watching, proud, each triumph sweet,
In sunlight’s golden haze.
But Heaven claimed thee far too soon,
Before thy eyes could see;
And left beneath the waning moon
A grief that clings to me.
At dusk, when all the stars arise,
I whisper to the air;
Perhaps thy soul, through endless skies,
Still hears a father’s prayer.
Oh, had I kissed thy sleeping brow,
Or held thee to my chest,
How rich my heart would feel just now,
How wholly, deeply blest.
Yet still I sense thy presence near,
Though form and breath are gone;
Thou livest in each silent tear,
Each dawn I look upon.
My child, though never born to be,
Thy heart I shan’t forget;
For love began its life in me...
I miss the one I never met.
The new sun hath risen again and shone
O beauteous sun, its flawless perfection it hath shown.
Thus light from it wast of haven impeccably urged,
For the destiny of its evil deeds’ concomitant wast yet purged.
None hiatus in the mist of its smirk to bepaint its gross,
Nor that that it loved so dear, so soon in oddly loss;
To shine t’other side wast its splendour but nought its wish
Nor to scald so deep to clear mistemper’d waterfalls upon earthly dish;
And never to wither the grass in the rejoicing forest,
But to make it lucid of aridness in the brawl against the worst:
The sight of its rays hath misgiven yet some consequence of despise,
Which somewhat didst profane pilgrims all made to paradise.
God asked: ’Sun, would thou likest to pray and die or livest and eat pie?’
The sun smirked, portentous in its tyrannous chariot; and chose to die.
I'm not, what her brother wants me to be.
I'm not, what her friends expected me to be.
I'm the man I was meant to be.
Live and free.
With the desire to fulfill my dreams.
I'm not what her cousin thinks me to be.
I'm not what her aunt has heard of me.
My biggest hater,
doesn't even know me.
Never seen me.
Never heard my voice.
She lost.
That was her choice.
Reality is,
I'm just me.
Happy, live and free.
Respectively, but definitely,
the livest figure
that ever came into Jersey.
She was the right dime,
glass of the right wine,
at the finest of dines.
Just all at the wrong time.
She will always be in my heart;
doing time.
Which is fine.
I'll always be the man i was meant to be.
Happy, live, and free,
living my life; for me.
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