I wasn't there for your first kiss,
Too self absorbed maybe,
I don't know, what the hell I missed,
Now you are grown with children of your own,
and now,
I love you,
more than time and tide doth turn,
I should burn for selfishness,
In the annals of much regret,
in the ennui of parenthood,
Now annus mirabilis has dawned,
as a lost prophet with a cause; however, not  as the word of the Lord.
(C) Livvi