suburbancliche

I look into those eyes, what I see scares me. I don't find what I need, I find reality. Conditional love fills my Father's eyes. Love, only applicable when I am what is wanted, what was imagined, and what is expected. And I'm not. I'll love him,
when he can't love me.

Here lies the hypocrite, shocked and ashamed at the next generation. Saddened by their exploits, their debauchery, their experience. Disgusted by their stupidity and judging their changes. He stops, and thinks about himself. One year ago. What that person say to the one now? Would he be surprised? Yes. Would he be disappointed? Probably. Would he be upset, confused, scared? Without a doubt. Here lies the hypocrite, passing judgement till the cows come in.