Tuesday, August 25, 2020

Sonnet to My Parents


You nag, lecture, insult intelligence;

Say things to me I would ne’er say to you.

You have towards me no empathetic sense;

Your words are bitter like vegetable stew.

You accept me not for how I exist,

Though I tease you not for your own odd ways.

Tension festers like a malignant cyst,

And shall haunt me towards the end of my days.

You bore me false witness and helped me cheat,

Instead of giving better solution,

And scorned me with a far harsher beat

To suppress familial revolution.

My wounds run deeper than those which you see;

I love you not how you claim to love me.

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