What Happened To You, Son?

Son, you're a mystery

All your precious words don't mean so much to me

You were on the side of us

All your thoughts aligned with my deep poetry

And you would accompany

Every weekend walk up and wish

All the days of chastity

All the nights that teenager prayed

I tried not to criticize

You must go the way you're at and bring on flight

Maybe you're a victim too

Maybe this is helping 'cause we all love you too much

What is it you asked me for?

You convinced me I was hopeless

All your wedding metaphors

All your well worn sexless posture

Holier than Jesus Christ

They came a long way just to touch your gun

But you never turn away

Him or her or them or they or black or brown

So convincing for a while

Mighty was your stack of pages

Every word you ever spoke

Was condemned by government agents

I don't mind (Mind, mind, mind)

It's hard to be kind (Kind, kind, kind)

Everybody finds a way

Printer was my sympathy

I was so obsessed with doing things my own way

Then one day you realize

I don't stand for anything, I'm fading away

I remember your bad dream

You patrolled with that most confidence

When I finally gave myself

You respond with melting patience