Sleep, Sweet Prince
I left a breadcrumb trail back to you.
There were photos, what was left of them
after years of handling,
Hiding them in the back of my desk drawer, daily,
worn and folded, and some in pieces.
Out of sight, out of mind?
No.
And your written words --
written with a scratchy pen
because it’s all we had,
and we had all we needed.
No TV because watching you sleep
was much better.
And I dared not wake you, but why?
I supposed that when you were sleeping
That you dreamt of me and you,
Because you had a half smile sometimes.
When you fell asleep you had chosen to stay
in this world of comfort and trust,
devotion and love.
You wake and my fear creeps in.
Sleep, sweet prince, and dream of us again.
No time to think about my flaws,
short-comings, the real me –
or your plan your escape.
Thoughts I still can’t bear.
The bread crumbs carefully placed are still there.
I can follow them now, but only if
I can watch you sleep again,
dreams of me and you,
and your half smile.
Sleep, sweet prince, and dream of us again.
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