As you live your life dancing from lie to lie, are you surprised or saddened, or perhaps darkly proud, to see your children pick up the same dance steps and smilingly, innocently waltz behind you?
Does your hypocrisy taste sweet or bitter on your plastic tongue?
When the truth takes shape in front of their widening and hurt eyes, and they fumble with who you truly are, will you expect them not to question, not to be angry, not to be painfully disappointed?
When you have force fed them disrespect until they choked, how do you expect them to respect you?
As you indignantly rage against their words and their anger, boomeranged back to you, familiar and worn-out though you feign disbelief, do your self-fitted blinders permit even the merest glimmer of reality to understand:
They learned it from you?