You chided and misguided--
Sighed and chided snidely--
While I stood there and deified:
Your opinion was once so sanctified
That it petrified and putrefied
'Til I was drawn to suicide.
And I won't lie,
I doubt that you'd have even cried.
Now this patricide's not emblemized;
Not glorified nor a source of pride.
It's just that I've been rectified;
I'm satisfied and verified.
You see, old man, your claims have been denied.
I stride beside a stronger pride,
We're unified, not terrified,
And, were you here, I'd just...
Laugh.
Sure,
We simplify and vilify,
All that we fear, but I--
I can't bring myself to cry;
I'll no longer will myself to die--
Because, in the end I'm just too high
To even look you in the eye.
I've modified and purified.
And, while you're compelled
to sit and hide,
I'm glorified--self deified--
And your podium's is now occupied
By the one who you once toxified.
And NONE of it's been for you.
No, old man, it's not for you!
Needless to say, my father and I aren't on the best of terms. Jotted this rap-style piece a while back as a means of creating some closure and satisfaction.