A son, though grown,
spoke to his mother, harsh of tone,
abrupt, demeaning.
She blinked back tears,
not believing,
then knew his father's voice
she heard,
echoing through the thoughtless words.
A piercing pain, as a shard of glass,
sharply struck
her chest and mind,
leaving tiny bleeding
wounds.
The sins of the father
may inhabit the child,
but the mother suffers
pangs of grief and remorse
when they do.
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