Triplets For A Dying Old Man Poem by T.A. Rosenbaum

Oh Brian, my Brian, come again to me
I'm lying in this prison here
My pain hidden from thee

Oh Child, my child, would you take my hand
I cry morning, noon and night
A chorus with time's sand

Oh son, my son, Would you remember me?
For soon I shall pass away
To where no man may see

My Brian, Sweet Brian, I'm sorry I can't stay
But my body is a prison here
From which I long to stray

Oh Brian, my gift, you know I hold you dear
And though I no longer linger
Please let loose your fear

For Brian, my Brian, don't you have a care
One day you shall join us here
On this morning Bright and fair