M

But Dad, She Hates Us Both

Her distal son
Thy praying father
Doctored hands 
Detach his heart
It is his father's heart
Thy mother is of scorn
Poor obscure mother
She'd wish their skin
Was of different poison 
To drain familiar color
In passed down eyes 
Thy son of father
You are abandoned and judged 
Thy father of son
You are fooled 
And misplaced
©venomocity