Fatherless Seed
I was created in your image. Manifested in pleasure and delivered in unfertile
ground. Plummeted to a world of half truths, constitutional tyranny and fear. In my
grasp I reached for your mighty roots that once held the soil so firm, but never
more. I topple; falling lost among the darkened shrubs and dung beetles. My
brown bark stripped away, by relentless sands, revealing white flesh of
conquered past. Wicked erosion institutionalizes my fruitless journey leaving
me with only deliberate despair. I branch out, but political correctness bounds
me from talking to you in a way that you may understand, so I utter complete
gibberish, sounding as of a child stumbling over its' first words. Pity me not; for I
will nurture many fatherless seeds with my enlightened compost.
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