Chapter Text
Innocent, ignorant, he’s a boy, nothing more.
Love cradles, many Aprils, day by day, he grew tall.
“Well, father,” once he asked,
“Now I’m grown, a man of my own,
what’s our family, shadn’t you unmask?”
Vito looked at his dear, dear son,
Merely a teen, life has barely begun.
Reluctantly, unwillingly, the Father kept the truth.
For fear what he says one day,
To the girl that he might choose.
“That’s my family,
it’s not me.”
Michael, Michael, the boy restrained.
Same blood, same color, flows in your vein.
Michael, Michael, the boy with a secret.
Be quiet, hold dear, keep love in your pocket.