( Some days ago. )
( Guilt still lingered in the old man. )
( For terrified eyes, a severed cord. )
( In foolishness or remorse, he found the poor boy's mother, regaling what he had done. )
( The berating, the fear, the anger, against her only son. )
Poor sweet thing, it broke her little heart.
And she bit and snapped back at the mean mean man.
( An echo of aching familiarity. )
On and on she went, loud and angry, for her poor little boy.
Oh how it hurt her so.
( The man simply stood and endured it. )
( He did not disagree, for he knew he deserved it. )
Oh how much she knew the feeling, but she wouldn't let herself cry.
( A pang of fear of him still remained. )
( In the end, out of words, she almost broke. )
( "Stay away from my son. And get the fuck outta my house." )
( The man simply nodded and left. )
( Only then did she cry. )
A broken little boy and a broken-hearted mother.
( A trust broken. )
