Crying, he longs for the love benevolence has stolen away.
Remember the times she held you close, came running in the middle of the night to chase the demons out.
“Come back.” She will not.
Left behind: a child bearing the burdens of life.
Only he can relive, a mother now, in his own right,
but thrown to the wayside– awash: the floor with lustful sweat, his pores bleed and want for the love he never received.
God bless you my child. He lays to rest.
On nights like this he breaks, breathes in filling lungs with God’s grace. The mortar surrounding his heart broken down now,