You might just get what you deserve.

Stop all joy,
the unexpected.
Crush the unknown
lest it flourish
colour life in
muted tones.
God forbid
imagination.
Should a child
exhibit genius
make it clear
they are not wanted,
Then sit back and wonder
why your life seems
empty, blander
and the light's gone
from the mountain
and the flowers grey
in sorrow
and the music
you once loved so
never speaks
of hope tomorrow.
Here's the world you wanted
Take it.
Stick it where the sun don't shine
You have got what you deserved
You don't deserve this son of mine.

Michele Brenton