A ride of romance,
The boy called 'it' now profound,
And redirected a grounding.

Dave, a medal of misery,
In his hands a medal of honor;
Years of service,
Laughs of malice.

A world of serene grace,
The mother and her spitting hate
Broken down to a stuttering say:
"Please, call me Mum".

Pelzer-man's world is numb,
In his teaching for his loving son,
Paid off from his trauma childhood,
And what patsy has said and done.

A tear trickled from his face,
As those songs of praise for his two fathers,
And their cancer.

"What I do, I do for you"