After all these years,
I’ve failed you.

Not just this time,
but every time,
and I live that way,
day in, day out.

You always meant the most,
and you’re better off now,
without my flaws,
dragging you down.

I hope you can hit your stride,
take off from here and become,
something better than the sum of us,
without our weight hanging from you.

They don’t have it in their eyes,
in their voice,
in their souls,
and it isn’t the same.

Broken shells falling,
clumsily through life,
collecting sand as we roll,
face-first down the beaches,
that looked so sunny and warm,
until the storm came to roost.

The wind and rain beat me down,
as I watch you spread your wings,
soaring away from the disaster;
I smile, the last time it matters.

The echo of your wings carries to me,
and warms my heart through all this,
as thoughts of greener grass for you,
bring a bitter happiness home to roost,
once more, somewhere in my soul.

Fly, beautiful one,
far from me;
love matters.