Mark Pietrosanto

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Joseph My Angel

I expected more the day you died.
It seems as though the poets lied.
21 years young the angels came,
They took your hand and called your name.
We lay beside you for so long.
Your body's there, your soul was gone.
Then it was just you and me.
The bag was not for your mom to see.
I told you of the things we missed
And gave your forehead my final kiss.
I miss you much my little friend.
But stayed beside you to the end.
I guess we had the life we chose,
But not the one I would suppose
Handicapped is what they would say
You proved them wrong every day.
No playing catch, teaching to drive
No, just a fight to stay alive,
I bought some things before you came,
Before you even had a name.
The football, glove, the ball and bat.
We never played with any of that.
I know one thing that we can say,
We loved you each and every day.
I know you're in a better place.
But all I feel is empty space.
I sometimes lay upon your bed
thinking about us touching heads.
It seemed to be the thing we'd do.
But now I just pretend it's you.
I know you are all well and whole
And God has blessed your beautiful soul.
Some day we will meet again.
I know the place, just don't know when.
I pray that you will be with us
Eternity will be enough.
Our time apart just seems so long.
It seems that way since you've been gone.
My son whom I love so much
I miss your kisses and your touch.
We just held hands every day
I guess that was our form of play.
I guess that when we see you soon
Then you can read us Good Night Moon.

Professor P © 2019

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