I ve got you under my skin... Secret Violin...

My Dear Mr. T

I've got you under my skin,
My Dear Mr., Mr. T.
You know it all—you've always been,
Yet fate still plays deceptively.

Shall we continue—meet again?
I asked myself long years before,
The day I learned you’d soon be him —
A father, but to me no more.

Yet even knowing what you chose,
Can love so quickly fade, erased?
Oh, Lords, what sorrow overflows,
A grief too vast, too deep to face.

My Dear Mr., Mr. T,
No need to say what’s writ in stone,
That fate was drawn beyond our reach,
That we were never truly home.

We part—our roads will never blend,
Yet love is not a gift of birth,
But something time cannot amend,
A thread beyond this fleeting Earth.

Ah, Mr. T, my heart still glows,
Like embers lost in dying coals.

Remember, once you had embraced
A handkerchief—so soft, so light,
With pastel threads so neatly laced—
Into my trembling hands, I was in fight...

To me, who knew of loss and strife,
Who walked through fire, scarred and thin,
Who fought existence, clung to life,
Yet never learned how not to win.

And now they claim my rights are none,
That I must bow, must live in chains—
By hands that rule, that strike, that shun,
That whisper what my path remains.

But no—
You tyrants, veiled in words refined,
Who weave control in silken lies—
I'll stand for fates unmarked, unlined,
For lives unchased, for love untied,
For roads where no one’s soul complies.

From G-major to E-minor,
I've got you under fragile skin,
So pale, so thin, with veins so finer,
A shade of blue—almost within.

If you can hear me now,
My only symphony—
I bow,
Oh, dear Mr., Mr. T,
May your new home a haven be—
A place of love, of peace, of light,
With Mrs. Dear,— heart’s delight.

Yours Secret—My Forever Violin...


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