breaking the chain

you don't know what hard
times are, you tell your
son, as your father once
told you. you don't know what
hunger is, what being cold is,
what being afraid and lonely
is. you don't know what
it's like to be unloved,
to work as hard as I do,
every day, every year,
to fall into bed after a days
job and have your bones ache.
you don't know what's it
like you tell him
to hold onto the wall
as you go down the stairs
in the morning.
he agrees, smiling,
wondering what he'll say
to his son, when
the time is right.