October 28, 2020.

the timid child grew

the timid child grew

stunted at first with clipped leaves

surviving with spite


the first bloom for blood

for the ancestral curse and ache

spat out the last name


then out came new seeds

family tree meant hanging

a new start meant peace


no longer hearing

a sweet lullaby from ma

a cruel one eighty


no longer grasping

onto scarred photo albums 

or hammy down clothes


the next bloom for choice

friends who carved their initials

on my hollow trunk


lie of inclusion

you cut me down for a stool

what was i to gain


no longer fearing

lonliness became a mentor

independence rose


i carry my weight

my value not based on use

praise is not respect


the last bloom for me

dispose of self destruction

i deserve kindness


my mirror can lie

vulgar and vivid image

created by pain


my mind paints pictures

scent of gunpowder lingers

the art of my war


the fruit of labor

life i crawled through the dirt for

will refuse to rot

Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 69 times
Written on 2020-10-28 at 06:43

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