This,
can't be.
This,
day can't continue,
to happen,
to me.
This,
sound,
can't keep altering,
my identity.
Weak,
it seems,
I am.
Am I,
truly a man.
Systemically,
it seems,
no one will ever,
care.
I,
look into my son's eyes.
I,
wonder,
if he feels the pain,
from I?
For,
my father,
altered mine.
Altered,
my little eye.
I seek not,
to do such,
to him.
To,
have him exist,
as I did.
But,
now,
I feel it.
I feel,
this systemic grip,
my father constantly dealt with.
This,
intense survival,
existence.
This,
which alters,
every parent.
For,
this fucking sound,
alters,
his dinner...
©yungb123
Y