The Blood of a Father

I wrote this poem about a year ago. I never posted it because of it's personal nature, however, I feel the need to be bold of late.

The first taste of death
Left none unscathed
Taking small pieces of us all
One by one
The blood of a father
Reeked havoc on the pride of a son
To be a man too soon
With no one to show him the way

That blood flowed through the hall
Soaking down to the floor boards
And no one knew
The same blood would destroy the innocence
Of a girl too young to know
A lovely girl
The moment of being out of control
Everything out of control
Left a little girl with wide open hands
Watching life seep through the cracks
And it left a boy to his own mind
Creating a world
Where he could control
Everything

It's the death
That the dead never wished upon anyone
The very exiting of one world
Destroying everything they loved
(And more that he only met once)

Once was enough
That blood on the floor was enough
To bond people
Possibly to death
Where no attachment should have existed
An unnatural union
And the sympathy for the son
Would be the very undoing

Of a little girl
A very little girl