A society man of stature
and historical pedigree
fathered an illegitimate son
and that son of his
was me.
He raised me as a 'patron',
though what we were was known.
Sponsored my years at boarding school,
bankrolled my childhood home.
To ends of fortune and esteem
I had been groomed to stake my claim
but all throughout my formative years
reminded, all the same...
''Do not use my name, my boy -
you cannot use my name.
The world is so -
and you must know -
you cannot use my name.
Not in means of business,
even if your own,
not ever once in boastful pride
in the world beyond your home.
You are mine,
you are of me,
but consider
society
and complications of estate,
lineage and
my sole heir's fate.
A line continues, as it must -
but with your own,
all is not lost...
your Mother's surname you must use
but rest assured I'll do my dues
and see -
I'll see -
that you shan't fail,
my second son
you will prevail.''
Within me grew
a hardened heart,
though I knew
to play my part -
and true to his word
did I rise,
with my own name
and with his ties...
To step into our Father's shoes,
in time, my brother's duty called -
to scorn me when our paths should cross,
in the city's gilded halls...
and so I wait now for the day
plotting, driven near insane,
that I should live solely to see
the ruin of that family name.
To smite it from all of the earth,
convince history to turn its back,
on all they were and now shall be
when my conspirators attack.
I have no sword, nor pistol
but sheer will
and greater sums
to do just as much a damage
as men who wielded either one.
I pay double agents
to rot their empire from inside;
deals to make, disclose
and break
until I'm satisfied...
in Father's debt
and ruin
vindicated I will be.
The only name
he'll wish to claim
in time, we shall now see.
Copyright Yafeu-Khamisi Rodway-Brown