Breaker

I inherited a madness.

It came from my father;

An anger that

always ends with

Alone, so alone.

Women have come.

Women have gone.

The name Michelangelo

Was never spoken.

I cursed them

They were forsaken,

Mismatched minds.

So said my paradigm.

But maybe just driven

By different thoughts,

Living different stories.

We are beings of

Intimate desires,

Yearning dreams,

And daunting chasms

Exist between our

Differing minds.

I twitch at my

Ignorant perceptions,

Flick them away,

Like bits of frost.

Be madness no more.

Be madness no more.