ah my friend
arch nemisis
debaser of what I hold true
torn again the disconsolate cracks through
doesn’t even bother creeping but rather comes head first
full on no holds bar grabs the proverbial balls
swings me round the floor
were that this were a dance I might enjoy it
or turn in my card and refuse another spin
but it’s not a dance it’s life
anger grabbed me by the throat not the hand
challenged me once again to choose
love over hate
patience over fused
understanding over dis ease
crawling in around the corner and taking the place by storm
I told her I hate women anymore
never mind that I wear the garb most commonly associated with
no matter
it’s a new breed
born of the 80’s as I am teenage years formed me into who this
the women my four must face in order to create a life that has something of a partnered
appearance joining of hands that might lead one onto a dias worthy of trust as it came to us so naively
we were illusioned to believe
no longer its existence for them torn
the land I once counted on has become a terrain I wish I could have foreseen
so as to not thrust four sons upon it hoping for the best
and getting a lot of expected
worst