You are big enough to stand
on your own feet, son.
In your waistband
and shoulder girdle
you carry a gun.
Your forearm tattoos
run to your both wrists,
You have a sharp mind
and stony fists.
Your cheekbones look firm
and your chin is square.
You were taught, my boy,
to dare, to bear.
You drive your car
like a jet or rocket.
Do you have any photos
in your secret chest pocket?
Do you smile at them
becoming loving and soft?
I wish you kept them
in a faraway loft.
You were taught not to ask
or believe or be scared,
You were taught
to get everything
and never care.
With a sudden flash
who's alive, who's dead?
In your pocket the photos
are bloody red.
You've forgotten, my boy,
what I taught, what I said.
Godfather
© Copyright: Светлана Сиверко, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123030200263
Свидетельство о публикации №123030200263
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