[mobile Chair] Poem by Empath In flames

For years I've been living,
In despair.
Sitting here paralyzed
Mobile chair I stare...

Into the hatred of my
Seven year olds eyes.
As the mother fills his soul
With more tainted lies
'Despise your father into
Withered old hands,
His not so perfect but
Part mechanical man'

The baby cries
An echoing thunder.
She leaves them both here,
And yet still I wonder...
Does her savage face itch?
Or do all layers peel back
To unveil a horrible b**ch?

Maybe I should have
Stayed alone,
Instead of painting
Mirrored worlds...
Inside this broken home.

Perhaps my reflections
Could have changed.
But do I fill in the gaps
With all shades of grey?
Swallow my pride,
And admit my fate?

Its just so f**en hard for
A cripple to simply
Walk away.