Ten at a time might be rather nice, delightful even
When Easter brings with it all kinds of everything
A boldened face pockmarked rather deliciously by these chocolate horizons – momentarily drying a saddened existence right out
When his young mother lends a distant shout to his ear: “Dinner is almost ready!”
Steady feet, trembling wits, for his father will have returned home just in time
With this humongous man there really is no rhyme and no such reason
For his ongoing ability to prise the life right from his youngest son all over again
So strung out, about to learn a harrowing lesson in age-old manners, bend at will against his gnarled and furious arm
“Dry your face, you might like the taste but there’s no place for it here!!”
When ‘daddy dearest’ can steer what’s outright holy in the incorrect direction entirely
This southern belly will be awfully empty before the evening’s end
All fingers and no letting-up
A puppet on a most telling rope, how do they ever cope?
They simply don’t

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