I wrote this poem on October 22, 1989. It is part of a collection of 69 poems I'd written before they were misused at the hands of two supposed friends...
It's a long story of lies and betrayal. However, afterwards I had become so discouraged and despondent, that by 1991 I stopped writing poetry altogether. But yesterday's talk with a lonely father who aches for his little boy caused me to include it here:
Goodnight, My Son
Goodnight, my son,
Goodnight, my son,
Have sweet and pleasant dreams.
A watchful eye I'll keep for thee,
Tho I'm far away, it seems.
Goodnight, my son,
Goodnight, my son,
May serenity come to thee.
Many miles away,
I linger, thinking
of you and me.
Oh, if this could be...
I'd like to be free one day,
As free as a bird in flight,
To hold you, hug you,
Kiss your cheek,
And wish you a pleasant
Goodnight!
D.B.
Goodnight, My Son
Goodnight, my son,
Goodnight, my son,
Have sweet and pleasant dreams.
A watchful eye I'll keep for thee,
Tho I'm far away, it seems.
Goodnight, my son,
Goodnight, my son,
May serenity come to thee.
Many miles away,
I linger, thinking
of you and me.
Oh, if this could be...
I'd like to be free one day,
As free as a bird in flight,
To hold you, hug you,
Kiss your cheek,
And wish you a pleasant
Goodnight!
D.B.
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