If you’re not ready to let go,

then don’t.

Hold on as long as you need,

and then some.

These are words I’d say,

to an unborn son.

If it seems repetitive,

that’s good.

If it hurts in a hundred different ways,

it’s supposed to.

If you don’t want to smile,

let them see you frown.

These are the words,

I’d say.

Does it get easier,

at times.

Should you forget,

never.

Is it your fault,

no.

The words I’d say are these.

Life will kick your ass.

Love will break your heart.

Death will drug your senses.

With the strength of a mother’s love,

I would say.

You are your father’s child,

but make no mistake,

you are not your father.