Goodbye, my son that was by my side filled with joy

i had so much hope and love for you

I am left to make up the seven years I earned

fate has strucked on the grim day

should I maintain my fatherhood, or should I give into the grief.

to lose my life and escape the world and grimace. If not by artificial means than by natural aging

rest in the ground, saying ‘here doth lie Ben Jonson his best piece of poetry’