…The Laugh Aftermath…

Was tough to master Math,
enough to answer last, rather than rebuffed
for being half a Man. Aftercare reformed through
corporal, master’s lash…no wonder we kept our breath,
even when others didn’t care for tomorrow’s Masters’ wrath.
Ironically, we died to shed the stain of fear from our skin,
which chronically defies the bred brain of the heir, our King.
Now, we’re reborn astonishment where our questions
are quenched by demystified witches and purpose…
we can and able…we bow in recourse to the accomplishments
mentioned and drenched in multiplied wishes
to purport Cain and Abel…