You Fell Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

You fell, my child,
I hope that little graze
on your chinnie-old chin
is not too serious.

Come here, my sweet
and sit with me.
Soon it will be
too late for this formality
And for the snooze
that you and grandpa,
since time began
did carry out
in sheer defiance
of what they said
and what they still,
in pitiful deliverance
believe with naiveté.

And let me, kindly,
hold your hand,
no, not to play
the game of patty-cake.
I want to hold it
until hell does freeze,
until the end of time,
the wherewithall,
descends upon
the you's and also me.

And will you, kindly,
forgive the world
and also me,
for being weak
and so accepting
in defeat?

And my I hug you
for the time
that we have left.
I cannot promise
now or ever
that the world
will once again
be right, my dear.
I am so sorry.