Quick poem

Screaming, bleeding and crying in pain, Wishing with everything to be whole again.
Sighing, dying and mourning my loss,a father figure, partner or grandparent.
Contact lost, turned from view, poor lost little boy blue.
Always the jester, or playing the fool, you reap what you plant and dread what you do.
No one is perfect, I’ve made mistakes, but why spit your words with all your hate?
Words are your venom, your silver knife, yearning and turning till you end my life.
Pierce and prod, finding the spot that hurts most, then sink in your hand and tear out my heart.

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