Dear boy, you are troubled
And it pains my heart to hear it.
So when you weep unbidden over the miles of phone line
I must weep as well.
You are trapped in a box, dear boy.
Away from love, or light, or pure thought, real thought.
Made to be a parrot, a useless church scribe
Copying again and again the false doctrine.
But my dear boy, there is so much in you.
How can I be the only one to see?
You bring light to my darkened world
And a vision of something vastly new.
They would trample such visions, dear boy.
I wish to save you from such cruelty
But I am in a prison of a similar sort,
You, my only lifeline.
Yet my dear, sweet boy, it will not be so forever.
Our shackles do rust with age
And one day, in our straining,
They will break and we will fly.
Then if you must weep, dear boy,
Do so in my arms
So that I may protect your vision
And kiss away your pain.
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