As a toddler
I hang around
in the garden.
with my siblings.
The garden abounds
with roses and lilies.
Gorgeous I feel
to be one among them.
Growing up we argue,
fight, hug and kiss
stop talking, scream
slap. i being the most docile.
Like a hurricane
we behave mad.
The branches snap
so do we, break the ties.
Adulthood brings
both responsibilities
and maturity. An end
to physical abuse.
Unknowingly i find
myself away from the troupe.
Like a lonely planet
I revolve and rotate.
Relatives and friends
turn to me, It is your
individuality that hurts
calls one,
The other puts forth, it could
be your financials,. My jaws fall
apart, finances? I quip
She asserts, it is.
The last one retorts,
it is your pride>
Pride! i exclaim
I possess none till now.
I smile though not with ease.
Like a Daffodil swaying in the breeze,
in the sweltering heat, I stray
along crossing none of them.
.
2 replies on “Mystica”
Ah…the joy of family gatherings…where jealousy abounds.
Thanks, Martin.
Hearing from you after a long time.
How do you do?