"Blessed Child"

No explanation why
trade marked self made
unsheathed sword didst try
to wreak havoc, sans
deep hurtful (severe) stabs,

no solution to
NON internal Quoi
yet, decades long inconsolable tears
inflicted toward self,
and family I cannot dee nigh

(of origin plus deux offspring
begat), oh my
whereat I clamped "hands"
over figurative "ears" obliviously,
and/or faintly aware

at times withholding
compassion, no lie
mercilessly depriving affection
from this fluky, kooky,
and quirky guy,

albeit the sole son
emotionally estranged
from his late mama, and
octogenarian widower papa, who I
rarely ever said "hi,"

when living under their roof
(at 324 Level Road,
long since demolished)
never inquired, nor
rarely ever acknowledged

appreciation (on a
regular basis), deep pry
ving expressing care and concerned,
whether kinfolk lived or didst die
(strong possibility linked thy

aver diagnosed with
schizoid personality disorder)
nope...not even
hugging me mum,
(whose desperate non

verbal plea ignored)
days before she passed away,
now as a father, (whose eldest
well on her way
to promising future)

her rebuffed overtures stung
at paternal resolution,
until this day, when
a singular sentence
she emailed as sent

ting genuine permission
for her to glimpse
a poignant poem,
perchance inducing my loving cry!