Your fav’rite class was English liter’ture, you so loved to listen to the poems, adventures that flew far away from home, preserve ev’ry moment, so clean and pure, through the craft of words, your funeral shroud, but in the moment you just loved to read, to see lover’s love, and warrior’s bleed, as a mother I could not be more proud. You loved Shakespeare’s sonnets so shocking young, loved them while the others were at their play, with wars, and tricksters, and dragons to slay, for that which ev’ry ancient song is sung, always talking, always something to say, but you never did like writing essays.