A sad Tale..

Maybe as a kid he was rejected, addicted and non protected,
Had a father who was always high, and a mother who just wished he'd die,
Maybe he never went a day without being made way with
Feeling astray as his mother leaves and walks away,
Wishes his father left and had an accident, wrecks his chest and gets a coma on top of it,
Maybe is his mind he ran but no pop or nan to hide with

He's alone in this cold world feels his father figure is the dark sith,
As a kid he's always mad, plotting the day when he'd hit his dad
A failure at life he had assumed, no friends or christ thoughts that he was doomed.
This kid had no chance, no mother there to build his stance,
You can see the inner death, summer day stillyou can see his Cole breath,
No one knows what's inhanced, black clothing long sleeves
Try to hide how much he bleeds,
The scars may heal but one thing never will,
This kid isn't living long ago he had been killed,
No conscious he turns to blood, feet in the dirt and his face in the mud,
Can't move or see clearly, clearly his father made him fear thee
Merely appeared he hates himself with a passion kills himself in rations
No reaction from a relative, no one wants him or at least for him to live

"how much your daddy makes an hour??"

With a timid voice and idolizing eyes, the little boy greeted his father as he returned from work, "Daddy, how much do you make an hour?"

Greatly surprised, but giving his boy a glaring look, the father said: "Look, son, not even your mother knows that. Don't bother me now, I'm tired."

"But Daddy, just tell me please!? How much do you make an hour," the boy insisted.

The father finally giving up replied: " Twenty dollars per hour."
"Okay, Daddy? Could you loan me ten dollars?" the boy asked.

Showing restlessness and positively disturbed, the father yelled:
"So that was the reason you asked how much I earn, right?? Go to sleep and don't bother me anymore!"

It was already dark and the father was meditating on what he had said and was feeling guilty. Maybe he thought, his son wanted to buy something.

Finally, trying to ease his mind, the father went to his son's room.
"Are you asleep son?" asled the father.
"No, Daddy. Why?" replied the boy partially asleep.
"Here's the money you asked for earlier," the father said.

"Thanks, Daddy!" rejoiced the son, while putting his hand under his pillow and removing some money.

"Now I have enough! Now I have twenty dollars!" the boy said to his father, who was gazing at his son, confused at what his son just said. "Daddy could you sell me one hour of your time?"