Where is my strength? The idea to toil while my shoes shine in the helpless sun; the notion of a true gentleman? One who has the wisdom to stand upright or he who calls himself a man without class. A father who is not a dad or a mother who is not a mum? He who has the idea but is void of the understanding, she who has the yearns but not the embrace and touch.
Blows and slaps, curses and swears – so to say; the notion of such blatant cruelty. Offspring who are victims of your reciprocal brutality, the physical communion of your fistful shatter. Terrorize them when they’re young and they will terrify you when you are old. On your sick bed while you grow in retrospect: the forms of your agile sadism: the uncelebrated merry of your portion, your stronghold while they tarry at a divine alter in character and natural irritability.
Your communal disgust at their success such a fretful disposition and a ruin of attitude for model assumption. To choose or drive at such is never a hallowed conception by them. Solace is found in attitude retirement for days in fellowship to years. Yet a little knowledge and a stipend wisdom to project the future; a tear at the base of such purpose. Much ado in such referral while they fall deeper into the terrorism of your character.
Trained or terrorized in the way of the lord? Spare the rod and spoil the child, such a notion to spar a voiceless scream. Until you bring them to your bosom, you are never a model for such rising flare hallowed in their hearts and minds. “Train up a child not only in the way of the Lord but in the moral uprightness of naturality”.
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