Poem to my son


 We all have a voice

And we all need to be heard.

We all have a choice

To be here or to be blurred.

What will you choose when you’re older?

What will become of your dreams,

As they join into the streams

With everybody else’s hopes and fears…

Will your world become smaller?

As you learn to deal with your own tears

What will you remember of our days?

What will you tell your friends about your childhood

Being busy climbing trees in the woods?

Will the world be your playground, always?

Will you come to terms with the truth,

That you can’t always be the first one

And that there’s no longer Sonic Youth

Their Poison Arrow has been shot and gone.

You will sometimes feel rejected

And there will be times where

The Battles at the Berrics are all defeated

There will be times when no one is there, here or anywhere.

Sometimes no one will pick you up.

Times when you will be too tired to try again,

Times when there is nothing left in your cup

And you feel your world is hiding under a heavy curtain.

In these moments, just close your eyes

And remember this little red star

Inked on the table in that bar.

I know that time just flies,

I remember that blue cadillac that you used to park in the corner,

And purple naans, and blue car with a squashy roof…

The Clash and the 3 men and their 3 trumpets… Remember

The three kittens and the geese, Peter and the Wolf,

Henry and Big Bala… Woof!


Most of all remember that we’ll always love you so very much!

Noemie aka Mum.

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