deepundergroundpoetry.com

My Family



love was
as rare as a bug
planting flowers
or painting walls

words were spoken
for truth and care
never endearments

dad stressed his commands
with his fists
and feet

mom kept quiet
until her kids were hit
then she screamed a blue fit

my brothers played outside
till dusk
they got beaten

i stole a banana
and was hit
to nothingness

grown we are now
and gone they are
to the netherworld

but we will always remember
our family...of mom and dad
and nine kids

and how we grew up
on the straight and narrow
with dad's guiding fists.

*this poem was entered in a competition here. thank you for reading*
Grace
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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