Sunday, September 11, 2011

Being little



















Those sweet young smiles
so innocent and happy,
your sister's arm proudly around you
timelessly captured by your mother
while your father lurked, mired in
alcoholism and depravity.
They tell me you forgave him before
you died.
I wonder how it's going in heaven
or wherever a diverse trio such as
you three ended up.
Is it possible you are all together on
some alternative plane or timeline?
A Mormon, a Catholic, and an asshole.
What a combination.
I suppose if God's involved, it's a
tea party every day, though I hope
he's drinking mud.
(Written for Sepia Saturday 91, 9/10/11)

5 comments:

  1. Forgiving is very often a very hard thing to do,especially if there were great wrongs done, I did forgive the man who killed my son,not to free him but to free myself of the anguish, and I knew it is what my son would have wanted me to do. Forgiving someone for a great wrong truly does take that huge burden off the shoulder♥

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  3. I love the photo, and the two identical smiles. A powerful poem about a painful childhood. I know it all too well. Keep writing!

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  4. wow - alotta people will be drinking mud tea, but I hope...not me.

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