A Violent Man

He had a propensity for violence forced into perdition from the hardships of pain dealt with for years when he hit me I knew it was only out of anger not hatred or malicious intent just a sad kid who never experienced his father's love or his mother's comfort begging at no ends for just an ounce of something to fight for I couldn't abandon him knowing this hurt him more than me I was only a temporary fix I know that now the only thing he could ever grasp and take control over was how he showed love so if this was it then how could I trouble him with tears the agony his heart went through the insignificance he felt although his screams were loud they were empty filling a hollow hole with closed fists making the mistake of suffocating people with what he thought was love a sorrow too deep to touch the wound of a soldier too old to heal maybe he wasn't sinful just a hurt outcast looking for a way out only understanding because he was misunderstood not knowing he was precious not realizing his perfection it was scratched not broken he was too afraid to be vulnerable hearing what was wrong with being a sad man so he became shallow and aggressive (part 1/2)