Rhetorical response to Father

It has been quite some time since I've written in this. It feels good to be back on the keyboard furiously typing away. (OK that never actually happens but a guy can dream right?)

My inspiration for the poem "Father" came from when I was walking to the C train at the Fulton station stop and saw a myriad of depressed apparitions on my way there. I saw countless black men of varying ages begging and searching through garbage in hopes of finding food. It was a difficult series of images to process and I immediately began writing on my phone the way i felt. I imagined the older man and if he had children and imagined where his father was and how much impact he had on this mans life. It's tragic to think of how too many my peers and elders are living in New York.

The city in itself also feels like a parent to all of us. It teaches us lessons, rewards us and punishes us throughout life. In what ways have what I learned shaped me into the man that I am today? If I grew up in a different place how different would I be, or how similar? I am a firm believer that your surrounding have profound influences on you. I think of Tupac Shakur who attended a performing arts school, whose rap lyrics were just as violent and aggressive as they were poetic, profound, and empathetic. If he grew up in the suburbs of Ohio would he still be alive today performing in some Off Broadway play?

I guess at this stage in my life as a 27 year old black male living in Brooklyn, I can't help but question how I got here. Yet, at the end of the day it doesn't really matter how, I don't think I would be able to pin point exact moments that shaped me for the better or worse, and quite frankly I don't think i'd want to. I'm more concerned with where I am going. With starting up my blog again and tapping back into my writing side, I hope I have a bright future.

Father

Senile and drunk rambling to himself
An old man drags his baggage up and down the steps
Waiting on the platform for a train to take him nowhere
A 30 yr old eating Popeyes out of the garbage
Hate and embarrassment stream from his eyes
In fluid poison a flood of emotion
Fatherless sons lost together, 
Alone in their misery 
Biological need, psychological greed
Environmental seeds
Which was the cause? 
Looking for nourishment in the bottom of a bottle, the bottom of the rubbish
Where's the clause?
Stains dripping from a bleeding sole
No amount of therapy will heel
Anger fills the bright potential
Walking aimlessly in your own thoughts
Asking your ego for directions
A lost child opening and closing doors
Searching for his mother's embrace
In empty museums
Displaying rows of mirrors stained with misuse over the years
Where and tear
He breaks
Down 
Into
Despair