Shhh, you musn’t speak. Not now at least
Oh, don’t you dare pick up that controller, they’ll be another time
Son, please o please, stop and look at me, you can watch later tonight
Look into my eyes. What do you know?
If I put a stark reason into your hand, would you use it?
If I bought you an inquisitive piece of fabric, would you wear it?
All I see now is that crumpled up reason enveloped in that inquisitive texture
I stoop to cultivate such a gift I had left you, and begin to sob
Why son? Don’t abandon me! I depend on you
I brought it upon my self to sow your garden;
Chop wood, while you played in the seamless grass
Shhh, you musn’t speak. Not now at least.
But you didn’t turn around
And I still crouch, hovering over your abandonment, sobbing.
Laureate