Awaiting company, a boy is born
Away from his mother, a boy is torn;
Drawing his first breath, a new life succeeds
Looking to his father, his simple needs;
What a mighty and powerful, six pounds
On my shoulders, the weight, a mighty crown;
I have a kingdom, an heir to my throne
I pass my son a good name for his own;
I walked, wandering, what my future hold
I look to my son, my future unfold;
I pray for mettle and courage, indeed,
To be man enough to father his need;
Devotion and love that can’t be forbade,
The only promises that can be made.

Ching, ching sound in the pocket of a coin,
Onward, to the future, strode a man’s loin;
Slowly, through the valley of death I walk,
Raise my head, from shame, to his eyes, I talk;
Legions of soldiers, soldiers of the pen,
Legions of men, these soldiers are your kin;
To thine self be true, do not forget you,
To a forest of trees, which green are you?
I wait, as I wish for death, forgive me,
For I realize the sins, committed me;
All sons and God’s son, are windows to truth,
And through his own eye, he sees his own youth;
Heed these morals, the lessons of the day,
Or your fathers debts, you will have to pay.

I wrote this back in college while I was also trying to get custody of my son. This is not as dark as it may seem. This is proof of heart and undying loyalty to a child I brought into this world. May he not know the sufferrings I’ve known and the mistakes and despair. <strong><em>May he be a better man than me.</em></strong>