Dust

I look around. I glance, then pass on Was there any purpose in this? Everything. It was handed to me Not on a silver platter But on the blood, sweat, and tears Of my father...wait. There weren't Tears. Ever. This isn't me. Where once was life, I only see Failure Resentment Worthless Lazy Followed by a single hollow word Disown. A piece of paper. That's all that connected us. There was never any bond Weathered by dust Strengthened by calloused Hands, reminding me that-- No, I don't belong here. I was supposed to sink into The ground. Where every Other worthless remnant Of his success went. So now I am just That. Dust to dust. Always under his boot.