You used to brush the dirt off of my knees when I fell, and gave me advice about people, telling me to concentrate on school and not in bad things.

I would laugh when you would dodge and weave along with the boxers on our small black and white, so filled with energy you were.

Now you call to fill my ears with familial delusions, to complain about aches and pains, or you sit silent, stoic.

I idealized you, and placed you on a pedestal that no hu-man could realistically possess.

No one compared. Until.

What a mistake to make. The fallout has been catastrophic, our bond almost severed by severe missed-deeds.

I thought I knew you, but we now live like strangers, sharing blood tainted by twisted truths and venomous lies.

What is real I do not know. Reality has left our world.

My memories fool me, they are now fizzled abstract pictures in my mind.

I want to believe that they are real.

I struggle to dredge up the “perfect” past, hoping to recreate those times, but only end up making confusion out of the present, and I stumble on to the path of a fake future. 

You. My rock, my foundation, the one I could rely on for stability, has been smashed by life, dragged back to earth, revealed for what you really are.

A failure? 

No.

Just a broken man.