He was born on the thirteenth,
Yes a Friday in May,
And his mother just knew,
What else could she say.
#######
He had to be wicked,
A child of pain,
A boy of great awful,
Who fit his strange name.
#######
For he was son of a David,
Who’d tricked his dear wife,
For not David Dean Baker,
He was David Dean Life.
#######
No hope for a boy,
With a father so bad,
His evil assured,
This Life would be sad.
########
But what Life you may ask,
Or who they you might say,
Well a Life is the reason,
For your every wrong day.
#######
They’re ages of ageless,
A magic of lore,
These wizards of witchcraft,
Cast mischief galore.
#######
They sit up above,
And do it for fun,
Its pleasure you see,
Hurting father and son.
#######
For a Life lingers long,
Way past normal span,
And they think very little,
Of quite mortal man.
#######
So they cast up their spell,
Once called only pity,
But that wasn’t that funny,
So they changed it to Mitty.
#######
A nonsensical thing,
Just a trick of the light,
Not pity or mean,
Only Mitty was right.
########
Going big and quite broad,
Their Mitty so great,
Or merely a trifle,
A whimsical take.
#######
See the great Maggie Lee,
A Life they called fair,
No big to her Mitty,
She just messed with hair.
#######
She found it delightful,
Locks burned and then broken,
Such centuries of fun,
When her Mitty was spoken.
#######
On days needing perfect,
All combed and all smiles,
She was whispers of windswept,
Hair tangled for miles.
#######
A simple fair Life,
Our great Maggie Lee,
Her mischief was tiny,
Not much else to see.
#######
But then there was David,
Dean Life and not Baker,
The worst kind of Life,
His was a love taker.
#######
His Mitty was whispers,
During sunny and love,
A charm of dark cancer,
Crashing down from above.
#######
He lived for the heartache,
The ruin and pain,
And what hope for our Walter,
Who carried his name.
#######
For that was the son,
Newest member of Life,
The Walter of David,
Who’d tricked his dear wife.
#######
But just to be honest,
And fair in this shame,
He was Walter Well Life
That was his full name.
#######
And Walter had magic,
From the thirteenth of May,
On the day of his birth,
There was so much to say.
#######
He could walk next to you,
Or to her, him, or me,
And be the love taker,
Or more Maggie Lee.
#######
But he had to be mean,
For he was just a Life,
Yet remember his name,
It was from that poor wife.
########
The one who’d been tricked,
And saw only pain,
She just had to try it,
To change this boys name.
#######
Forget what she’d seen,
Such a wicked old song,
If she named Walter Well,
Would that change his wrong?
#######
And he had to be Walter,
After that of course Life,
But still she spoke on,
Last gift as a wife.
#######
After that a divorce,
From cruel David Dean,
And then she abandoned,
So quickly and mean,
#######
But our Walter continued,
Never stumbled or fell,
Over Mitty or mother,
Or being that Well.
#######
Till the day David Dean,
Came up to his son,
Said its long past the thirteenth,
So much to be done.
#######
It’s time for a choice,
Either me or Mrs. Lee,
Take your magic and Mitty,
Cast something to see.
#######
With that David pointed,
Right down to a child,
A blond little girl,
So cute and quite mild.
#######
There was candy in hand,
And a skip at her feet,
The day was her smile,
True wonder to meet.
#######
And Walter was ready,
With a whisper to see,
But most never noticed,
Not you, her, or me.
#######
Would he windswept the blond,
As he passed unseen,
Or would he scar deeper,
Go David Dean mean.
#######
But oh as he moved,
Walter did have a fell,
And thought only this,
Why be Walter Well?
#######
Because of his mother,
Not missed for a bit,
Yet near to that blond,
He still had a fit.
#######
He couldn’t stop thinking,
His Mitty right there,
Why mess with this child,
Why bother her hair?
#######
He was a Life after all,
What else could he do,
Yet maybe his mother,
Had named him quite true.
#######
Maybe that Well,
Could be his real Mitty,
A secret still joke,
Of purpose not pity.
#######
He could cause a stumble,
Or a mess with that hair,
Yet still bring the joy,
True happy and fair.
#######
So Walter did whisper,
And blond lost her candy,
She stumbled so sudden,
Over Edgar James Handy.
#######
It was something to see,
Kids eight and young nine,
A memory forever,
On a day oh so fine.
#######
Oh sure little blond,
Had a mischief so wrong,
She stumbled and fell,
But it led to this song.
#######
A melody of love,
Between her and James Handy,
From that day forever,
Who cared about candy.
#######
And dear David Dean,
And the rest of Life too,
Saw only the pain,
Missed something quite true.
#######
A poor and tricked wife,
Had done something rare,
Mere mortal she was,
She named a real fair.
########
Our sweet little Walter,
Still spoke out his Mitty,
But took all that Well,
And used some true pity.
#######
He wouldn’t just work,
His magic and charm,
For only the awful,
All mean and great harm.
#######
No he’d bring the pain,
But turn it to joy,
So one stumble girl,
Could meet a nice boy.
#######
He’s the Life you can trust,
In the darkest of hell,
That this pain means something,
That this Life is Well.