The Sins of the Father

The Sins of the Father
Scott David James
Circa 2012
(please do not be discouraged by the vulgar beginning, it is but brief)

Fuck me forward
Torn and tattered
Salted, saddened
World’s awash
Fading, flattened

What I’ve wanted
Where I’ve been
Blessed and beating
Broken
Bleeding

Dressed and dreaming
Slowly weaned of what’s receding

All that’s been that’s made us, marks us
For all of which, we seek catharsis
Calm and chaos
Both can spark us
Make us more
Oh, make us marv’lous

Life is what we want to carry
Not the burdens lost and buried
Father’s sins through eon’s carried
Alighting on your shoulders, sharing
That which weren’t for you to carry

My soul’s been weary
Less than merry
Watching me
Watching you

My friend, it’s nary yours to tug
Shrug this burden that’s been drug
Through wars and more and days been done
anno Domini, B.C.E.
Not yours or mine
Not you or me

Let it go and fade in tone
All that is or ever known
Of those things not ours to own
Let demons die and salve the wound
As sure as the sun presides the moon
Let hatred die before we’re doomed
Don’t need new devils in the womb

Let it go
And let it be
Stop blaming me for what’s been reaped
I haven’t sown a single seed
And thus, I won’t be branded fiend.

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This entry was posted in Economy and Politics, Poetry, Prison Poems, Spritual. Bookmark the permalink.

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