Golden (For Mark)

Golden Boy your ma’s greatest joy
Hiding the butt of your cigarette
Not a word, your thoughts
Knitted and purled
Neatly wrapped over your shoulder

You’re much too young to face
The barrel of a gun
Sidling up to your doorstep

Golden yes, now just wishes at best
I never got to know you

Saw your face, neither time nor a place
A picture upon her mantle
Saw her cry a handful of times
Wondering who you’d have been

You’re much too young to face
The barrel of a gun
But you’re not the first, nor the last

Frozеn time now forever a child
As I grow you stay just thе same