Though you are a beautiful notion,
You have come too late in this day,
You rise only to be stunted-
By my resigned and resenting eyelids.
Though you may never see day-
Be breathed unto the intellectual air-
Or feel the freedom of ink and page,
Know that you were my own,
One that I loved though I can not remember,
You are undoubtedly one that I cherish,
For you have risen with me, by me, and for me,
You are one of the few I can call my own.