The heart of my childhood still aches
Decades later I’m reminded of my grief
It rests somewhere deep
In what could be the essence of my soul
It lays dormant until I’m confronted by my own blood
A face similar to mine
Mocking me with a cruel smile that reminds me
You’re nothing when you can’t provide
Our devotion is purely transactional
Used pages in a dusty cardboard box
Your written words
Meaningless