For Baby Harry
We've only met once
You were too little to hold your head up,
I was too scared to hold you for long
I'm painting your bedroom mint green,
hoping your Mom will keep the wood trims black
Nothing like a bedroom that looks like
mint and chocolate chip ice cream
The apartment is quiet now
I'm wondering why I'm here
It's Sunday, it's hot
I should have something better to do
than to sit on a stained, gray carpet
covered in paint
(Sorry about the stains, by the way.)
writing to a baby who can't even read
When you're old enough
you'll wonder whose half-toe print is on the carpet
near the door maybe
You probably won't ever know it's mine,
unless I stay here and get a chance to watch you grow
Me staying put is never a guarantee
Hopefully I'll finish your room tonight,
give your Mom one less thing to worry about
Even now I'm being selfish,
curious if you'll think of the random woman
who painted your bedroom
I should be putting wishes on the walls for you
Hopes that you'll grow up to be feisty like your Mom,
and stronger than your Dad
But honestly,
I don't know what to wish for you, Harry
Being strong and feisty,
being a survivor,
isn't always what it's cracked-up to be
Pain catches up to you,
no matter how far away you move
Truth is, none of us really survive,
at least, not as we are
People die, rebuild, and die again
The world will crack you open, Harry
But don't be afraid of this
You will travel to the deepest caverns in hell,
the highest peaks in heaven
Storms will rip away all you thought you were
If you let it
...I got a wish for you now
May you be brave enough to let life unfold,
and dig deep in times of trouble to discover the man you are supposed to be
Don't hide, baby
Don't you ever hide
You were too little to hold your head up,
I was too scared to hold you for long
I'm painting your bedroom mint green,
hoping your Mom will keep the wood trims black
Nothing like a bedroom that looks like
mint and chocolate chip ice cream
The apartment is quiet now
I'm wondering why I'm here
It's Sunday, it's hot
I should have something better to do
than to sit on a stained, gray carpet
covered in paint
(Sorry about the stains, by the way.)
writing to a baby who can't even read
When you're old enough
you'll wonder whose half-toe print is on the carpet
near the door maybe
You probably won't ever know it's mine,
unless I stay here and get a chance to watch you grow
Me staying put is never a guarantee
Hopefully I'll finish your room tonight,
give your Mom one less thing to worry about
Even now I'm being selfish,
curious if you'll think of the random woman
who painted your bedroom
I should be putting wishes on the walls for you
Hopes that you'll grow up to be feisty like your Mom,
and stronger than your Dad
But honestly,
I don't know what to wish for you, Harry
Being strong and feisty,
being a survivor,
isn't always what it's cracked-up to be
Pain catches up to you,
no matter how far away you move
Truth is, none of us really survive,
at least, not as we are
People die, rebuild, and die again
The world will crack you open, Harry
But don't be afraid of this
You will travel to the deepest caverns in hell,
the highest peaks in heaven
Storms will rip away all you thought you were
If you let it
...I got a wish for you now
May you be brave enough to let life unfold,
and dig deep in times of trouble to discover the man you are supposed to be
Don't hide, baby
Don't you ever hide
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