The Son

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  • Family

    The Son

    So much rage
    So much fear
    You scream out loud
    But no one hears
    Spread your wings
    To find their clipped
    Feel so alone
    To take that hit
    Stand in a crowd
    But still alone
    You feel so empty
    Chilled to the bone
    But I am here
    To guide you through
    With love of fathers
    Toward their son’s

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    SL’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Sleep 0
    The End 1
    The Journey 1
    Robin Song 1
    Love 1
    The Son 1
    The Crossing 3
    the rose 4