The Perfect Son
He was taught to live for the Family
Each day he looked in the mirror
Each day the same face reflected
-Perfect
The face was beautiful
-Vain
The scar above his eyebrow
Left over from one of his lessons
-Learned well
His lessons were always taught
With cruelty and Pain
I would not judge this boy harshly
For being what he has always been
Born a man
Raised to be a god
Lessons taught with the Whip
Are difficult to unlearn
Hard to discern
Between Love and Hate
This boy
Who knows nothing of Mercy
Corrupted by his own Blood
Knowing not of Gentleness
Only of Indifference
His mother taught him Manners
His father Discipline
And This Boy no longer a boy
Was broken from birth
Never having the choice to choose
Molded to be the Perfect Son
Never did he have the option to Run
As the years passed
He became a different man
He grew Hard
-Cold
And thus by the age of 18
This man
-Ruined young
Had become exactly as his father wanted
He had become The Perfect Son.
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Sanity? I lost mine long ago.
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