Progeny

‘You’ll never understand’, said he,
‘It’s beyond your capacity.’
Wonder if he’s ever tried
seeing the world from my side.
I don’t know pain as would he;
probably have more than he sees.
Running like clockwork,
I have a system clean.
Any sign of trouble,
it gives me a scream.
All left high and dry:
a tiny prick on his side.
Acid, on my skin streams,
my world in smithereens,
till the last moment,
I reserve my breath,
holding out for you;
that you mayn’t tread
on your own dreams and sweat.