with slender fingers and shallow pockets.
Altruism’s not a strong suit well adorned
even while the seams are coming unstitched.
A crumbling foundation found in fiasco
hidden behind a smoke screen veneer.
The son can’t shine beyond debasing shadows
as the center of self glares blindingly clear.
The resources fated, habitually sated,
every penny in its wrongful due place.
Any dime dropped will roll straight through the grates,
with every spent nickel a billowing disgrace.
Familial lines drawn and stretched way too thin.
Breaking point buffered by litigation.
Momentum only quelled till time to begin
moving in the direction of mitigation.