You wrote me a note all scribbled
and torn,
back and front all hard
to discern.
Listen now as I'll soothe your worry
and concern.
Four heads have four foreheads and
eight eyes to pierce
the terrain -
Four mouths spout lies and promises,
some teeth fall out and hair does as well -
Your note to
me will never be lost.
A postcard of a placard reads
number one dad. I am
sad to know you haven't
a clue who my mother knew way
back when.
The man
I can't stand is myself because
Was stolen at birth nearly never reached
earth. Survived abortion with a single
kind word at the
cost of a postcard stamp.
My mom got a note from a boy
her student of 9, not older than you -
The child had cancer
wanted to be a dancer, but
couldn't stand on his own.
A seed was sewn and it
became me.
Thanks to a dying boy.
Four heads, not all alive.
Me, you, your grandma Carmen, and Drew.
all live on in this rhyme I am sending you
my son.
Have fun in this life, let fear
and strife
die righteously at
the side of the road.
-wrldwyze
2018
