Ode to the Bred-Winner Figure
Forget me not, he softly whispered
Forgive me always, his ego blistered
The game was quit, in our cold embrace
The bond was ripped, from the fire-eyes escape
You grew me up, like a seagull does its young
The rights and wrongs, to avoid in a storm
When tempests came, and disturbed my slumber
Your lights bedazzled my pathways that were under
No Hades more fierce than our mighty will
No better Stallion to work us out from our Dreams
Mentor of Despite you drew your shadow to Be
With neglect to share thy Ropes with Generosity
My Father, always proud and shamed
Thy pain, my sorrow, thy hate, my aim
Another day unseized in thy pallid routine
Thy nightmares are prolonged by the bred-winning schemes
My heart shall Travel abroad without Us
And when I’m laid cold, I’ll remember to Forgive Us…
poem by Evita Velvet
Added by Poetry Lover
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