My Son, Where Art Thou?
March 11, 2009For those who know me, know my story when it comes to my former 8 year marriage, which ended last year, and the fact that anything and everything to do with my son (who just turned 5) has been really hard on me. He is BY FAR the greatest aspect of my life and someone I live my life for day in and day out. Every thought, every thing I do is not acted upon without asking myself, “Is this the man I want my son to grow up to be?” The fact I do not get the chance to see him, spend time with him and raise him every day has been heartbreaking to say the least. It’s by far the hardest thing I’ve had to deal with in my 31 years of life. My blog entry today, I present a poem I created just for this facet of my life.
My Son, Where Art Thou?
My son, where art thou?
This I ponder every second, even right now.
Are you happy, healthy, a smile on your face?
Do you feel loved? Do you feel safe?
Memories of me ever flirt with your brain?
Remember how often, “Love you.” I say?
Missing your daddy, who you wish you could see?
Do you long for my hand as you cross every street?
You wish I appear just to give you a hug?
Help me stir chocolate milk, then together we chug?
My son, where art thou?
I hear your giggles, you nowhere around.
Ghosts of your presence haunt and they tease,
Effect my heart like a hurricane breeze.
I last saw you, remnants scattered to see.
Memoirs, sting my soul like a hornet posse.
Song from your movies, dance in my ears,
Happy and sad conceive at least one tear.
You feel my pain though I out of sight?
You hear me cry every other Sunday night?
My son, where art thou?
Constant inquiry keeps circling my brow.
Of one I am certain, I can find you each day.
My heart and soul, forever you’ll stay.
Thank you.
I was googling for images of bloody tears and a pix you posted on a blog came up? so I started to read what you wrote. Your poem really touched my heart and although I’m 55 now, when I was 10 my parents divorced and the hurt it caused me has never left.
I was a Daddy’s girl but had to live with my Mom. My dad eventually moved to another state and the visits became shorter until one day we were almost strangers and I could never get back that closeness again. I can relate to how you feel and when I read your poem, I started to cry. My parents are long dead now but those sad hurtful times of my childhood and what their divorce did to me I’ve never forgotten. Keep as close to your son as you can for if you become distant for even a moment it can change things forever.