To my Newborn Son

Glorious child, wonderful child
Eyes so bright with a heart so mild
My heart aches to think that you'll grow up while
            I slave away at work

I hope you grow up intelligent and bright
Prince of the day, unafraid of the night
Wise, poetic, defender of right
While I spend my days
            all of my long days at work

My heart breaks as I dwell upon
The ghastly thing you are bound to become
A teenager, an adult; oh my poor sweet son
The doubting, the fear, the frustration, the grief
You'll experience it all, be you policeman or thief
Then you'll grow old and die like a lone autumn leaf
            as I spend all of my days at work

I will never know you
            I spend all of my days at work