From their inner turmoil of mistake
becoming our restriction on things.
Restriction brings out our resistances.
There is no dread when the foundation collapses and withers to dust.
Standing in the mess we're reborn like phoenix from their ashes.
Dust to dust
Ashes to ashes
From their inner most demons
From their dreaded mistakes and disgusted trust of sorrow
we stare up from within the pit we must climb out of.
With their strength and our own we'll climb.
We'll learn from our mother and father
even if they walked out on us or never showed.
We're their grief future they and many have quoted.
We're divided and united.
Our shadow reveals portrait of our future. Their worries drown us.
Some of us will swim. Their wants and dreams mold us.
Our tears are unseen. We are conquered by their past.
Our greatness is sometime shunned; we must march on.
Even when some of us have fallen we don't stop.
Some chooses to ignore it others might think of helping.
Their mistakes drown us. But, some do try to love us over it all.
We are their child born into this world, our parents.
Share This Poem