His deeds fortold her future.

His absence etched upon her soul,

His genes that were her makeup

were a mystery to unfold.

His life acting out his mothers belief,

On a mission to impossible

Living inside the words of the 'pious book'

A martyr to the incredible.....

 

Every night on bended knee,

Repenting all his sins......

He'd remorsely ask forgiveness,Whiskey boiling from within...

With fetid breath and fetid soul, he'd don his ' shirt of hair '

And morbidley with loathing shame,

He'd dream of devotion, lost somewhere ?

 

Each day from down the street he'd watch her in her poverty,

And clasping the hand of his treasured son,

He'd pray for anonyminity.

With book in hand and righteous breath,

He'd turn the other cheek...

And abundantly lay the table of his family down the street.

 

And every night on bended knee,

Repenting all his sins....

" For shame ! " he'd cry

" I am but mortal man ! i can not live inside the ' pious book ' !

Please send me a solution,  grant me absolution,

before my day of retribution ! " ....