RENEWED by touch of tragic truth,
This child turned into timid youth
Put off his puerile playing
As mother started praying.
RESOLVED, she sought her son some strength:
“For you, I’ll go to any length.”
She winked, and called him, Kiddo,
This woe-begotten widow.
RESHAPED, as fatherless, by fate
His grief did galvanize, not grate.
His mother, once his treasure;
He swapped for girl and pleasure.
RESTYLED, as lover realigned;
With one, was not the staying kind;
Her dad, when they were over
Spat, “Curse that Casanova!”
REFORMED, by tender tear-stained face
Of girl, he named, his goddess, Grace;
His dad, he knew, if living
Would frown, but be forgiving.
RESIGNED, now he is old and grey
And there is no remaining day
To light his mother’s Kiddo;
His wife will be his widow.