Your eyes bright, eager and trusting, <br />Where do we go from here, my son, <br />I spent my essence, loving and lusting, <br />Chasing a paper god, my son. <br /> <br />I turned my sword to a feathered quill, <br />Ensnared your mother’s heart, my son, <br />She loved the god in the paper spill <br />But never the god in your father, son. <br /> <br />We came together when life was full <br />And loved at the morning light, my son, <br />‘Til she grew heavy and I grew dull <br />While you just quickened and grew, my son. <br /> <br />Then you burst out like a single star <br />That beamed from our both horizons, son <br />We loved you more than the what-we-were <br />Than ever we loved each other, son. <br /> <br />So she grew bitter and sharp of tongue <br />And I went back to the pen, my son, <br />But all the words that I’d ever sung <br />Unravelled in desolation, son. <br /> <br />And when she left, she took you too, <br />The light in my life went out, my son, <br />I would she’d loved me as I loved you <br />But love is a laceration, son. <br /> <br />Now you have grown, the world’s ahead, <br />Your eyes are eager and bright, my son; <br />Don’t spend your essence on paper gods <br />Or trust in a woman’s love, my son. <br /> <br />For dreams and all ambitions fade <br />When a woman leaves in a storm, my son, <br />Remember the price that your father paid; <br />Love sought and lost in a rhyme, my son. <br /> <br />13 September 1991<br /><br />David Lewis Paget<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/never-the-god/
