The Perfect Son

He was taught to live for the Family

Each day he looked in the mirror

Each day the same face reflected
Perfect

The face was beautiful
Vain

The mark above his left eyebrow
A scar left from one of his Fathers "Lessons"
He had learned them well

These lessons were always taught
With Cruelty and Pain

I would not judge this boy harshly
For being what he has always been

Born a man
Raised to be a god

Everyone knows
Lessons taught with the Whip
Are difficult to unlearn

Hard to discern
Between Love and Hate

This boy
Who knows nothing of Mercy

Corrupted by his own Blood
Knowing not of Gentleness
Only of Indifference

His mother taught him Manners
His father Discipline

And This Boy no longer a boy
Was broken from birth

Never having the choice to choose
Molded to be the Perfect Son

Never did he have the option to Run

As the years passed
He became a different man
He grew Hard
And Cold

And thus by the age of 18
This man
Ruined young

Had become exactly as his father wanted
He had become The Perfect Son.





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