Went to a very sad funeral of a young man who thought he had nothing to live for and did the unthinkable. I guess this is a worldwide problem and would like to share the beautiful reading.
Parents love your sons, love your big, dumb sons,
Your idiot sons, your swaggering sons, your awkward sons
Your irresponsible sons and their indestructible limbs.
Love their red and bleeding knees, love their clear uncluttered eyes.
Love their stumbling foal-like hands, love their necks just asking to be wrung.
Love their shoes lost in the neighbour’s yard, love their badly ironed clothes.
Love their terrible haircuts, love their empty tanks of petrol.
Love their awkwardness at airports leaving for a world they’re expecting to change.
Love the hair on their chins like a small lawn of badly cut grass.
Love their brokenhearted girlfriends calling in the middle of the night.
Love your northern sons, your southern sons
Your eastern sons, your western sons.
Love your granite sons, your crystal sons, your paper sons.
Love your rising sons, your blazing sons,
Your noonday sons, your setting sons.
Parents love your sons, love your big dumb sons,
Your idiot sons, your swaggering sons, your awkward sons
Your irresponsible sons and their indestructible limbs.
Because they die so fast,
So awkwardly, lankily, idiotically, swaggeringly fast with everybody staring at them
On Friday night, with a wicked grin, in the moment of their greatest triumph.
When they will always be the last to know,
The last that is, except for you.