Across the kitchen table–you spat

a sequence of words unfit for any being

and you hated every freckle–unruly curl–

my e before my i and every other misplaced thing,

merely dismissed–a disgusting disGrace


Well, I’m sorry to say–

I’ve come a long, long way and your

hatred is your bed of lathered loathing

in which you lye–

So twist your selfish words of woe

and be content in what it is, I have learned:

A title does not make you,

a bank account does not save you,

and the abject horror of your words will forever haunt you.

Your phony religious beliefs and upturned nose go hand-n-hand and in the end as Father walks with Son again know your dated Patriarchal convictions will not absolve you of your sins. And I ask you this, why is it daughters have always been omitted?

© Grace Black

Poetry Month continues and this is Day 5 of NaPoWriMo for me. Something a little different doing my own prompt today.

30 poems in 30 days. Do you dabble in word play as well? Let’s create 30 in 30.

Love and Ink,


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