plea of a dying man

what would you say to my burial,
that i was a human beings trial,
would you miss the calls dial?
The one thing that would keep us
one,
the poems i wrote to make fun,
my whispers into your ear,
one that would kill all your fear,
days i would pick your perfect
gear,
to make you look beautiful even
in the darkness,
that was a sense of your
perfectness,
a symbol of our oneness,
the time we exposed our laziness,
as we did it in slow motion,
to exploit our ever sense and
function,
as we moved in compaction,
to show our little affection.
Would you tell people of our fight,
i would let you win even when
am right,
when am wrong my hair would
make a spike,
we would break up and still keep
sight,
to make up and leave us tight,
would you tell everyone that i
was your knight?
Would you tell my mum of of her
grandson?
one that looks just like her son,
a strong boy named after her
brother,
Jackson jaxo junior,
the son i so much adored,
one thats my flesh and blood.
Would you tell my son of my love
for him?
I would give all to teach him be a
man,
a wonderful young lad,
cool and respectable like his dad.
Darling would you have another,
would you give him all tie
pleasures we have?
Baby tell me before am dead.