In the coming tears of failure
The mothers wailing apology to children
The fine hand of Leonardo Di Vinci
Will write the end
For what need has God to hide his miracle
As he weeps the loss of a hard won creation?
Like a boy writing his first note to an attractive stranger
Saying how much he loves his new girlfriend
When she replies, “Do you mean me?” with a smile,
He says, “I hope so,” and then
Adds, “I don’t expect you to stay forever.”
Most of us deep down would say
It is the extinction from Earth of all living birds
That hurts the most beyond measure,
It is tears for them, not us, (who were warned
Who wore our scorn for our responsibility on our sleeves)
We expect from the miracle hand.
That laugh is so sad.
I can still love you dearly
All of you gunning it down hell towards the abyss,
But maybe I won’t bother,
This pain in my heart is now ever-lasting, too.
What have you done, now?
Little problems at school, with your eyes rigged
By doctrine.
He wondered why he’d had so many daddies,
And why they all had to be so mean.
His mother said she was sorry such bad things happened,
But their cupboard was bare; the clothes they wore weren’t clean.
They needed money; they needed a provider,
And his mother had many awful ghosts inside her.
They neighbors looked down upon their plight,
They said the many wild young boy was a fright.
When one daddy left, another was right behind,
While the many fathered son slowly lost his mind.
His mother told him he was special; he was great,
But for true tenderness he’d have to wait.
She gave him what love she could,
But while men treated her like dirt,
She felt like wood.
When one man came who she thought would stay,
The wild young boy went astray.
All the men who had treated her so badly,
And while she was so young, loved her so madly,
Would not leave the young man’s mind.
So he took a shotgun, and went to find,
Another young woman who would enjoy the fun,
While they traveled cross country, with his gun.
When her wild young boy was caught,
She pleaded for his life.
She found the words of a good mother and wife.
While her wild young boy sat with his eyes gleaming,
Down her cheeks the tears were streaming.
"You see, this boy, he had so many daddies."
That while she was so young,
Loved her so madly.
It comes from a couple of places. I knew a guy who was the model for the guy in this story. He didn’t go on a shooting spree, but his life with his step fathers was like something from The Twilight Zone. What prompted me to actually write this poem is a song by Tanya Tucker - “Georgia Sun Going Down” or something with a similar name.