He has washed away his soul with wine <br />taking the bread from his sons mouth <br />malnourished to the wolves under moonshine <br />dressed in poverty to a mother with ill health <br /> <br />the wilderness swallows him up and spits out with hatred <br />to circle a cycle that should be outdated <br /> <br />under the sun the son seeks to fill the empty space <br />that has plagued him since boyish memories <br />cool heart that pumps heated blood similar to a fireplace <br />feeding a rotten dish of fear and worries <br /> <br />enslaved to a past that has engulfed with lack <br />the cloudy grey broken sky, my father has cracked...<br /><br />Angelo Velasquez<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/broken-sky-3/
