Jan 7, 2021
To My Children
To every melody imagined but never sung,
To every verse not etched by the rhythm of typing keys,
To every fantasy that has faded to the nebulous cosmos of memory,
To every idea that has passed to the sands of time
Washed away at the shores of conception.
In a race amongst the many
To be the first to fertilize
Eventually losing the race to life.
Abandoned to a forlorn neverworld,
Possibilities bursting,
But never to see dawn.
I have met you all.
And though our time short,
I will remember that which you gave me,
Cumfort.
-Krishna Alighieri
