No explanation why
trade marked self made
     unsheathed sword didst try
to wreak havoc, sans
     deep hurtful (severe) stabs,

     no solution to
     NON internal Quoi
yet, decades long inconsolable tears
inflicted toward self,
     and family I cannot dee nigh

     (of origin plus deux offspring
     begat), oh my
whereat I clamped "hands"
over figurative "ears" obliviously,
    and/or faintly aware

     at times withholding
     compassion, no lie
mercilessly depriving affection
     from this fluky, kooky,
     and quirky guy,

albeit the sole son
     emotionally estranged
     from his late mama, and
     octogenarian widower papa, who I
     rarely ever said "hi,"

when living under their roof
     (at 324 Level Road,
     long since demolished)
never inquired, nor
     rarely ever acknowledged

     appreciation (on a
     regular basis), deep pry
ving expressing care and concerned,
     whether kinfolk lived or didst die
     (strong possibility linked thy

aver diagnosed with
     schizoid personality disorder)
nope...not even
     hugging me mum,
     (whose desperate non
    
     verbal plea ignored)
     days before she passed away,
now as a father, (whose eldest
     well on her way
     to promising future)

     her rebuffed overtures stung
     at paternal resolution,
     until this day, when
     a singular sentence
     she emailed as sent

     ting genuine permission
     for her to glimpse
     a poignant poem,
perchance inducing my loving cry!