Worse Around my Kin


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. 

  • Author: Quemis (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 10th, 2024 05:06
  • Comment from author about the poem: ...
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 8
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  • Alan R

    Beautiful flow

    • Quemis

      Thank you very much.

    • Kieron

      I love the image of the flowers and the roots. Thank you for sharing.

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