Ever Wailing Child

Who will cry for the little boy, Whose wails are heard resounding inside the man. The man whose ever unhealing wounds are clothed in pride, These mortal scars he wears beneath his flesh To him are medals of honour testimonies to his character Though his visage is a prominent countenance of pride He is ailed by a phantom of a little whelp a wailing boy who stands at the threshold of time ever hurling his lamentations to the man with accusatory tones in little grievous voices accursed day the mother's nipple he purged with tiny bites and little nibbles his mute protests understood and from his suckling lips his nourishment rid of with haste, & left after the mother's guttural wails, a glutinous white trail of sweet aliment. in persuit of new tastes, urged to crawl away from those who knew him needing to quench his dry life with spirits and to lick his wounds in solitude the boy's mistake his haste attitude to become a man Ever and forever more so, suckling from a bottle's tip the said spirits, the malignant acids, remedies to calm his demons, heart hardened and his will to live humbled, now with each sip he impugns his need to exist, sipping these pernicious aliments to tenderly nourish his grave and coax his days shorter. bear not amiss the abhorant, dreaded days ere when harsh lines marked the path he progressed, in the keeping of a world with vile intentions this lone boy with no loving hand to stroke a tender flame on his fragile emotions accursed day when ignorancy ailed one such as he, to hate blindly pride and arrogance his eventual downfall ever stirring him to ignorancy. hate he suckled as nourishment from the nipples of a mother whose bosom coursed with old hate. robbed of her maidenhood, violated absent care, then the spawn to disdain and loathe unfurl out of the desecrated womb, a gift from nemesis woe ye the day he bid his own counsil unworthy to heed ignorant of benevolence his creeping demise unfurl heart unchanging ever frozen in the frame of the babe