The Devil's Son (today's poem)

The Devil's Son


He grew up playing in the dirt

trying to get back to any other home

calling out the good kids as dandy

in a world of creatures with red eyes

as he grew his fingers became so long

he could touch the farthest gone soul

 or hold up a criminal with ease

as an offering to his father his best friend

the fire in his belly was a universal truth

of his own hunger waiting for dead meat

or trapping any passerby with his jagged vibe

he became a man and sought out dominion

fighting against perfect days with his own storm

the anger took him to the edge with birds

swarming around his head making him dizzy

nearly falling only a strong wind in his face

pushed him back he wore a cape that kept

his cold shoulders in and roamed the earth

seeking those certain friends that would

literally bow to him as their only servant

when he died he left people wondering

if he was more human than they thought

back into the ground where folklore has it

not one blade of grass would grow over him

though the town would grow in patches there

and they'd light fire and hover like gray clouds

until turning they saw the sun.