The Dutiful Son

The dutiful son plays his part
Master of deceit, a perfected art.
With so many roles his world has blurred,
When he screams into the night his words are slurred.

To his father he's the perfect prize,
No act of defiance even as he cries.
He does what is needed, casts no blame,
Even as his world goes up in flame.

To his lover he tried to always do right,
When he could make her smile. he would bask in its light.
He wanted to be her hero, she was his escape,
And then she was gone, taking his cape.

To his friend he was a secret love,
A perfect surrender, a gift from above.
He stole into her room, thieved her heart,
Then left her to rot, tearing her apart.

To his brother's he's a burden, a hazard at best,
He does what he wants, puts their loyalty to the test.
He wants to be fair, but it is all in vain,
To them all he can offer is adventure and pain.

To his mother he is a constant fear,
His road, his path, forever unclear.
She deserves much better and oh how he tries,
If she even knew half of the secrets lying behind his eyes.

To his dealer's he is the perfect client,
So many issues he is self reliant.
They alleviate the burdens inside of his head,
Why not profit upon one already dead?

To society he is a hopeless cause,
A has-been, a disgrace they feed with applause.
As always he does what is expected,
The role of disgrace is one he has perfected.

Inside his head he is a lost little boy,
Who has been used, abused, treated as a toy.
He screams silently in the dead of the night,
Of monsters and demons he has no strength to fight.