(This is a fictional poem)
The school counselor told me that you have Aids.
You didn't come to me because you were afraid.
For years I yelled and neglected you, I wasn't a good father.
When it came to trying to be a good parent, I didn't even bother.
I know that I've been a lousy dad but I'm going to start being there for you.
I'll climb a mountain or swim across an ocean if that's what I have to do.
I'm not sure how much more time we'll have together.
But I'll be here to help as yo go through the stormy weather.
You're in pain because of this illness you have to endure.
I'm going to hold you in my arms and pray for a cure.