much too late

The lesser of the two evils
Was never my cup of tea
And the offspring of the those thoughts
Died at birth
Strangled by the umbilical cord
That nourished in the dry womb

The devil in her Sunday dress
Twirling her strong finger at the
Stain glass replica of Mother’s final words
Years before they gave life
To unexpected death

Regret takes a godly form
Like father’s funeral was digested
With street drugs and foreign men
All warning he expressed
Was left to the black cat
Of my rebellion-
The perfection of suppression

I’m sorry

by SilentWords
posted on 06/21/2009