Empty Suit

No ones heard,
no one knows,
not a soul,
needs to say woe.

This is a story,
a tale so wrong,
that it need be told,
in sad sentences long.

The hour of life,
in which he began,
the conception of moment,
bellowed - raped by man.

Her life changed abruptly,
the scholarship from A's,
would now reduce,
to nothing but craze.

Her purple haze manifest,
the life longed for gone,
now sitting on a porch,
looking out on an empty dawn.

At the tear drop split second,
of his tiny little birth,
this child poured forth,
like nothing dirt.

Her life had changed,
post pardon blues,
drowning a baby,
was all she had to do.

Her conviction and conscious,
the mind inside her self,
couldn't let it happen,
here a battle built.

A war between self and self,
fought 14 years long,
to one day know,
no longer an empty long.

Her longing is so deep,
her depression so vast and wide,
the life she shares is burden,
one not well heard.

Of course he was molested,
that sad little brute.
His life was ruined breasted,
by his summers guilt.

His mother gave up hope,
she longed the life so gone,
the one in which is forever,
haplessly in her empty dawn.

The little boy of 28,
double age so old.
He carries with him daily,
the crown of being told.

Every day,
in and about,
her post pardon blues,
wiped him out.

Life isn't happy,
life isn't fair,
in fact its so simple,
that 99% carry despair.

...

Simple yet stupid,
diluted and common,

How many of You -
- Will wear an Empty Suit?

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*Forgive me.

*This was frugal, tedious, and ridiculous to post. But I needed to post .... something.