Credit: observationdeck.io9.com
A reluctant visit
An obligated progeny
You don’t want to know, he said
The shirt a dead give away
A tidbit told
More evidence of the continued decline and aberration of your soul
The story spins
History repeats
You cannot connect
Instead you show and tell
Gifts for yourself that accent your wealth
While your heirs labor six days
Scrimping and saving
They are neither envious nor angry
Merely filled with abject apathy
And a lack of respect born only
through the silence of their responses
Your brackish bravado
Your quixotic quest to fill the hole in your soul
An obvious attempt to hide from yourself
and the endless moral lapses that once cast a pall and plague
over any who dared to trust you
Void of remorse
Spinning a prevaricating tale
Unaware, Unrelenting
in your pallid pursuits
Practicing your art of deception
with the vapid Senorita at your side
That’s very strong – I love the last line. 🙂
Oh good! I struggled with how to finish it! Thank you.