You Know.

You know,
my son,
the road I tread,
the dark tunnels
that lead away,
that close up doors
at each new day.

You know the words
I speak to you,
the words I write,
and try to shape
to say how
your death
has pained
my heart,
that tragic event
that time has sent.

You know
my dark hours;
the black dog
at my heels
snapping and growling,
its deep down bark,
its tearing teeth
sharp as any shark.

You see I sleep
in drugged up doze,
that each new day
I think of you,
and your sad demise,
always there in mind,
before my tired eyes.

by Terry Collett

Comments (5)

Very light and happy, for William Blake!
Look at how many happy words sparkle happily in these verses. This is a real cutie: .... the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
The magic of nature comes alive in the form of colours and sounds which are not for our ears or eyes but for the heart of all nature lovers. It is the nature in full bloom. Wonderful poem.
I'm not laughing. William Blake has many better poems than this one that could have been chosen as Poem of the Day.
A nice poem -When the air does laugh with our merry wit, And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;