mourning son

I didn’t expect to mourn him so
those large hands that beat me
those eyes that bored into my soul
his anger that consumed me
kept me so long in fear
yet
I was the wayward one
& all this is gone
Left to memory
& forgetfulness
Like visiting a town I once knew
where memories come to haunt again
we never know our parents
the who they really are
tho’ they insist they know
every inch of their child
I guess we’re both wrong.

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