Deadbeat parent

I try to be eloquently spoken, no I am not joking as I sit here smoking toking with the smoke cloaking my surroundings. So high it's too late for flight groundings.

The things she does astounding, has  my head pounding from thoughts hounding resounding the back of my skull. Even with my senses dull I am still in a rage how did you manage to rattle my cage, setting the stage as I turn the page to a new chapter.

 All I hear is cruel laughter, but what comes after I knock you off your feet you deadbeat, metaphorically, listen, because I'm speaking allegorically, I asked that question rhetorically.

 I close my eyes to forget this place, I need some space to forget your face for you are a disgrace, leaving a bad after taste that I have to chase with whisky post haste, I don't want a trace of what you have done to her own son.

Neglect, what is your defect you need checked, face wrecked. Extreme? Well, what do you expect, you don't deserve respect, because what's next, unprotected sex, popping out another baby, but baby just maybe you could get that penis injection with rubber protection before you get another infection. You're just a hiding place for random erections, you need a mental health inspection, you need a correction, your whole life is in the wrong inflection, heading in the wrong direction, one disaster after another happening in quick succession, which begs the question, "Why can't you stop,close your legs, and think for a moment?"

You are having more kids, but what about your first, why does he come second to your thirst, as a human you're worst, a curse to your own children, you can't even build them, or fill them with love, because you have none for yourself. You're a robot, you don't even have thoughts just four tots that got caught in your firestorm of turbidity, yes, I am talking about your stupidity, your amount of ignorance infinity, you wont even take care of your own responsibility and it's killing me.

How can you be so bold about being so cold to a child not that old, ignoring his story as it unfolds? It's true I once thought you a rarity, but I had a moment of clarity and saw the disparity in how my son deservedb to be treated and the way you treated him, the way you still treat him.

When is the last time you called or wrote him a letter? I hope you get sick and never get better. Our son may never know what you have done, but I will and and I'll have none, it's I've who has won, because he is no longer ours, but only my son. Now it's time for me drop the mike because I am done and much like your mouth, I have to run....