A bulking fear raised him up
Caught deep down in self degradation
Endlessly fumbled in fouled rub
Gushed heartache in suppression

In jaded days locked up in his room
Killed laughter, oh father’s wrong love
Must not have gone in such bloom
Only pure if was Papa’s shove

Quietly relapsed in his worm bed
Squealed testicles daily in lust
Under veiled he in his old man’s weight
Whole childhood gone to the rust

Years passed and old man finally slept
Zeroed encased pigeon, he finally wept

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