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?
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,