When I was not considered aged a blank canvas I strode
Ripping roots as if a tree bore no family at all
although my own embraced my every whim
as if this parody I just now unearthed
I’ve grown with rotted roots
no ladders for my chutes
A lone gunman – pistol pointed proof
The only way I learn a damn thing about myself.
I declare war on my character – my style is plenty defense
(As if this parody I just now unearthed)
Sometimes I dream I’m a captain like my father
steering through squalls ever soundly
Though the squall steering his ire a decay will never sound
Maybe I’m already at sea
I thought you swore these sails sound
I wore your name just like a crown
I held your truths as if a gun
I bore your shame just like a son
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