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!