Heartless

Writer’s block;
what a dreadful concept
leaving your brain rather
blank of ideas.
 
Quite a pain.
 
I’m full of emotion;
mostly anger towards you,
my grandfather – but I cannot
express it in words.
 
Could it be guilt?
This hatred I feel for you –
it seems to grow
each time I see you.
 
Yet I’m so happy I held back my punch today.
 
I don’t think I’d ever
forgive myself if I hurt you
despite the countless times
you pounded on your own son’s family.
 
You really are a dick.
 
I’m constantly told
that I have your character –
but there’s the difference
between us right there;
I wouldn’t hurt you –
even in my hate for you,
while you’ve managed
to wipe the fact that you’ve
murdered people
entirely from your subconscious
(which truly makes me wonder
as to whether you have one).
 
Three women you married,
of which two left you
(I guess they couldn’t
take your beatings)
while the one left still suffers
and your son is the one
who has to take care of her;
while all you worry about
is whether you have enough
money to warm yourself with;
you selfish, stingy bastard.
 
I hope you’ve come to realise that I’ll not attend your funeral.