Stephen. Poem by Tony Mushrow

Stephen.

Please forgive me Stephen, I’m sorry I wasn’t there.
I didn’t mean to leave you, don’t think I didn’t care.

I only saw you the week before, I saw you standing there.
You laughed about my baggy jeans, I joked about your hair.

The last time that I saw you, I knew that you had gone.
No life behind those eye’s of blue, your words forever, none.

I could not foresee the week ahead, I didn’t feel the need,
The path that lay ahead for you, and where that path would lead.

I did not share wise council, nor words for you to heed.
To know what fate had planned for you, a gypsy’s eye I’d need.

I could never of foretold, a week from then, to see you again, lifeless, stiff and cold.
I came to see you Stephen, to save your mums ordeal, to save your mum, see her only son, and know he’d never heal.

I often think of you Stephen, and think was there more I could have done.
How could I know you’d be off to meet your fate,
a journey you would make alone, to heavens pearly gate.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, the moment your soul took flight,
to where no one returns, from the never ending night.

So one day Stephen, I might land upon your distant shore,
And may need a guide. I only ask that if we meet, at rest,
That you know that when I was your guardian and you my ward,
I did my very best.

God bless.