My kin bring out the worst in me;
The Drunk, the Sick, the Fool.
A dancing jester suicide.
A sobbing angry tool.
Can have me sober, wordless;
Seething with love unknown.
Reminding myself not to pray
For lands where salt is sown.
Can have me jovial and glad,
For a few hours least,
Before the starving man inside
Insist it\'s time he feast.
No series of actions,
No eloquent demand,
Conveys the family I can see,
A tribe united stands.
I am a thousand reflections
Where many flowers bud,
Still those twisting roots below
Insist each time on mud.