Amanda Burns
Son, What Can I Give You
What does one failed poet have to offer
Maybe I can give you my dreams
And maybe they’d just plague you as they’ve done me
Maybe I can give you a love of rhyme
And a way to bleed your soul into neat little lines
Or maybe you’d be better off with my imagination
So you can daydream of all the places you’ll never see
And write a story so believable
Everyone will think you've been
Maybe you’ll have your sire’s ambition
And with that, my son
You’ll go so much farther than either of us could imagine
Maybe you’ll see all the places we won’t
Or maybe you’ll settle down right near home
What does one broken caregiver have to offer
Maybe I’ll foster in you a great compassion
And empathy enough to love the forgotten
Maybe you’ll even be a doctor or something
Maybe you’ll heal the sick and ease the dying
Maybe you’ll have your father’s mind
And be the mathematical type
And if you do, my son, the sky’s the limit
You can go anywhere or be anything
What does one poor mother have to offer
I’m not rich so there’ll be no trust fund
Chances are we’ll get by but sometimes the getting will be hard
You won’t have the top of the line gadgets as seen on TV
And your clothes will be bought off the sale racks for cheap
So what can I give you when you’re worth so much
My love, son, only my love.
By Amanda M. Burns
For My Son
© Amanda Saylor nee Burns. All rights reserved