(c) E.P. Robles 2011

FATHER this be the only prose
that I shall ever write to thee
more than you gave ever to me

What crumbs left in youth
nothing more than nightmare
such memory that I dreamed

And when you beat the heart
of the woman who bore me
I let my soul break away

You — arrested development
such a weak excuse to me
the reason is more —

Your soul is rotten
and decays within the core
not one bird would eat you

Now I know and I praise because
if not for you I would never know
the woman is stronger than the cock

So prance along weathered bird
no tree too short for your talon
and leave alone my precious heart

:: 02-03-2014 ::

[Definition ‘cock‘]