Morgan Mitchell

Fiction Editor

Hello Father,
Hello Father.

Hello, I say, to the one that makes me puke.
Hello, I say, to the one that I rebuke.

Hello Father,
Hello Father,
Hello to the one that pushes me farther,
Down the road of the improper scholar.

I do not hate you,
But I want you subdued.

I want returned what you have taken,
You apathetic crook.

You crooked man,
You have taken from all what is rightfully ours.

Gently do you come and take your due,
Without a sound do you arrive to take your due,
With plenty of silent warnings, do you take your due.

I demand that you,
Apathetic crook,
Return what you have stolen.

Return to my dad,
The strength he has lost,
And the resilience of long-lost days.
Return to my mom,
The energy stripped from her,
And the ability to hope for the future.
Return to my brothers,
The pride they once had in our family,
And the pride they once had in themselves.
Return to my dog,
The senses she has lost,
And the health of a pup.
Return to me,
That freedom I so loved,
And the love I once had for my fellow man.

A savage crook,
Who forsook our lives,
And hooked our demise,
To simply close our books.

Return to us,
What you have taken,
Or I will continue the path,
Of the improper scholar,
And reclaim,
What is rightfully,