My Son

The battles never cease
my son
save you surrender.

Thus the rare
unbowed
brave of heart
feeble and bruised
finally must fall
as younger hearts fight on.

All bones exit this world
either complicit
or broken,

Broken
I say
is better.

Therefore
go forth
my son,

May my love
provide what shield
it might,

And may I have the might
to watch thee
beaten.


svh
8/10/91

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