This day is done

let hands blushed blue with care

lay down the sceptre and the crown

cast off the mantle drawn so tight

round shoulders once too young, 

and now too old to bear

this velvet tapestry of life, the gold, the red

the thread of all you did and were

is now complete 

to hang upon some dusty wall.

 

And I wonder at the sacrifices made

the love affairs you never had

the tongues that never wagged

the un-lived life now taken to the grave

that you were never your father's joy

but ever his pride.