Take it away, Mr. Jingly Change Man
I can’t take it anymore.
It’s something I cannot stand.
Is it when I look into those milky, cataract-filled eyes on Thursday afternoon?
Or is it the blood shot eyes and beer-battered breath of a sticky Sunday dusk?
I was always there.
From the point of your high noon ‘til your low midnight.
The acceptance of your self-destruction has left a blank and voided stare,
And I am done fighting the good fight.
So take it away, Mr. Jingly Change Man.
Not only have you taken the spirit and fortitude out of your life,
But you have just taken away the love and respect of someone who has always been there.
Your Son.