Discharges by Ivan Guerrero Najera

Discharges


A storm that passes near
I fear I may have kept aground
And my son, my reflection
My pride profound
Captured every rainy tear

But he can smile
He chases like a gust
And if I must I will
Give up my sanity, my trust
To find relief in all his guile

What is to find a cure
To lure our hope into relief
When the initial news was rough
And strength turned into grief
Lost, paralyzed, impotent, obscure

I ask for nothing more
Than his a life worthy of lore
Worthy of normalcy
And full of ordinary fun
And all-derserving infancy

A life a million times my own
And better
More smiles and laughter
More words for every letter
More sweetness than can hold a home
More bubbles than a sudsy foam
More happiness
More Navi
More Sunday than a sweater


by Ivan Guerrero Najera

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