My Father's Faith
That icy channel of forlorn
My father's faith was not conform.
Controlled by errant struggle, ne'er reform -
All error was my parenting, lost scorn -
Could not disciple discipline, his worn
by times sent wayward, needed to calm storm.
My learning, was so strung, so longing's torn
with violence of war, unthought of mourn.
Torture sensing reason - ne'er loving, warm -
I buried this, my childhood -
.....to be born!
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