I stumbled across a snapshot I took of this poem, which i wrote in the back of a notebook I use for school, and promptly forgot about. So I figure hey, why not? Might as well post it.


E’re the waters of my eyes
Broke o’er his tiny hands
Clutching him one final time
As warmth of fatherhood disbands

Yearly quick’d by fifteen May
A’racked with stifled tears
O’er sweet-born his memory
Buried ‘neath a dozen years.


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