Bound by brother's betrayal,
Chained by undue portrayal,
Kept by jailer's lock and steel,
Bars and scars refuse to heal.

Child inclined but can't forgive,
Man resigns, to barely live.
Beneath inner walls and scars,
The child plays inside bars.

Until open cell and door,
The man walks outside once more.
He leaves the boy in his cell,
Within walls till scars should heal.

The man hollow, not quite free,
Yet still holds the boy's cell key.
The man dreams of vengeful tricks,
He plans words to form lock picks.

To use the picks in the door,
The boy still dreams of much more.
Till his chance finally comes,
The man meets his father's sons.

He draws the picks to condemn,
And speak judgment upon them.
Before the man speaks, the boy cries,
And tears fill the grown man's eyes.

Then both boy and man say, too,
'Oh, Brothers, I forgive you.'
Drop the picks, now use the key,
Man and boy are truly free.

© Craig Wann