“Consistently rude and disrespectful.”\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her last words, the third item in her will.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Them words hit hard, but he ain\u2019t resentful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of the lady he called mother and does still.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His father apologized, and then he uttered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf I could, I\u2019d give you another.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The son tears up, they share a dry laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The son replies, \u201cIt\u2019s too late, I\u2019m already past half.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She lived a long life, but now she\u2019s gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Twice a wife, and three times a mother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The oldest of her three, 50-plus years grown.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\u2019s now sad and depressed without his rudder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Life\u2019s been an incessant search for identity. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Amidst his fearing, pleasing, and fleeing\u2026 her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But she\u2019s gone, her last words crushing, none but he.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So, the son rejects the definition, the title, and the labeler.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She tried her best, unwittingly befriending demons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He can\u2019t blame her; they showed up disguised.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His life\u2019s been a longing for answers, for reasons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But all he found was vanity, ego, and a not-so-subtle pride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Generational curses, lies, and subjective truths.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her last words, were descriptive, her last words were snide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But none of it can matter now for pain was the root.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So, in silent mourning, fate proclaims that grief he must ride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Consistently rude and disrespectful?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This man is not, that\u2019s not his identity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She went out swinging, too late to annul.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I know him well, you see that man, he is me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dedicated to my soul.<\/p>\n[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\"Consistently rude and disrespectful.\"\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her last words, the third item in her will.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Them words hit hard, but he ain\u2019t resentful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of the lady he called mother and does still.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His father apologized, and then he uttered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf I could, I\u2019d give you another.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The son tears up, they share a dry laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The son replies, \u201cIt\u2019s too late, I\u2019m already past half.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She lived a long life, but now she\u2019s gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Twice a wife, and three times a mother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The oldest of her three, 50-plus years grown.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\u2019s now sad and depressed without his rudder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Life\u2019s been an incessant search for identity. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Amidst his fearing, pleasing, and fleeing\u2026 her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But she\u2019s gone, her last words crushing, none but he.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So, the son rejects the definition, the title, and the labeler.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She tried her best, unwittingly befriending demons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He can\u2019t blame her; they showed up disguised.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His life\u2019s been a longing for answers, for reasons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But all he found was vanity, ego, and a not-so-subtle pride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Generational curses, lies, and subjective truths.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her last words, were descriptive, her last words were snide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But none of it can matter now for pain was the root.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So, in silent mourning, fate proclaims that grief he must ride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Consistently rude and disrespectful?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This man is not, that\u2019s not his identity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She went out swinging, too late to annul.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I know him well, you see that man, he is me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dedicated to my soul.<\/p>\n","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/iammaximillian.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/92"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/iammaximillian.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/iammaximillian.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/iammaximillian.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/iammaximillian.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=92"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/iammaximillian.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/92\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":102,"href":"https:\/\/iammaximillian.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/92\/revisions\/102"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/iammaximillian.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/97"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/iammaximillian.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=92"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/iammaximillian.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=92"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/iammaximillian.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=92"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}