father flesh your vows were made
with certain good intent
better yet the brows you raised
could see no self dissent
strong, you were
a rock of sorts
which seldom moves an inch
long, you were
on life of course
life is but a cinch
oh so brave to walk the fire
the fire gone unkindled
a smothered flame to breathe again
once properly swindled
conscience plays a partial part
in stemming liability
but time you'll find will rob your mind
of valuable stability
it's a tell-tale sort of story
though no moral or no fable
and if you'll kindly pay the ransom-
the deed to my betrayal
we shall climb this rugged mountain
together we shall ascend
and once atop the sound will drop
"my father is my friend!"
©Jason Cole