(For when you are a man.)
To my third child and second son,
You may be the most inquisitive one.
To answer the greatest of all concerns—
I love you more than fire burns.
I do the best with what I find—
I’m raising you from within my mind.
In the interest of scathing reviews of my life
I strongly advise you consider the source,
I’ve invested my time in the bruises of right—
Not in the bowels of fraudulent lords.
I’ve engaged their games and dubious course—
I refuse to be caged in their subtle wards.
This world in which we were sworn to be born
May be a blessing or a miserable curse,
Depending on wherever you treaded before—
For me, my last mistake was worse.
Reliving a level of hell I traversed—
Lives ago in this crude universe.
Formerly dissected, analyzed and perfected
My last experiment was compromised and infected,
Lives are easier when they’re not recollected—
But only you will know the level you’ve selected.
Just remember you were never, not once, neglected—
I gave you a name —and it was rejected.
If you decide to use half the mind I’ve planted
And not take this stride I’ve assigned for granted,
I’ll expect to see you someday so candid—
Unexpected, exhausted and stranded.
And whilst you stand there so disenchanted—
I’ll explain the deranged affair you’ve been handed.
If I should die
Before you’ve the chance,
You shan’t recant
To rearrange your plans—
To figure me out
And frame your stance,
I’ve left you my life
To decode in your hands.


Son, unknown

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