The son commits the sins of the father,

Passing on mistake layered upon mistake.

Bone balled in flesh to knuckle wrap

Across the back of the head.

Shocked headlights spark up in the eyes.

The gaze returned, notes too late the regret;

At the leaking pain running down the face,

That lash of violence from such an unexpected place,

That had no such cause to make.

The son commit the sins of the father,

And realizes his mistake.

Stays his hand.

Takes away the burden,

From the weight that he inherits.