Born into a perpetual cycle of violence,
Playing the part of the faults of others.
The epitome of my mother’s scorn
Living life vicariously behind a toughened facade.
Committing iniquitous acts,
Offering nothing more than an abject apology.
All in the name of righteous indignation.
The product of immediate gratification,
I am the antagonist in this cruel place to be called home.
Growing up in a broken home was tough. Made worse by a mother who only saw evil in the eyes of her child. This is my story.