A poem of self-reflection |
The person whom you welcome into your abode, The one you claim as your kin, Whose future you map out with joy, And whose name you whisper and scream, The one you boast about to all, I confess, I have grown complacent, Gone along with the deception, But now he is no more, For he never existed at all. Yet you persist in this façade, Living the untruth day by day, But fear not, for truth will always prevail, And soon it will come to light. The one you introduce to guests, Whose image graces your walls, Whose life unfolds in social media posts, Is the girl with curly brown hair and silver glasses. You may conceal her name, but it's the only one they speak, You may silence her voice, but it's the only one they seek, You may strip her bare and cloak her in garments worn before, But her essence – delicate, curvaceous, feminine – exists forevermore. In time, it won't be that son who tends to you, But rather your only daughter, Now a woman of grace and wisdom, With a partner, children, and home she loves. And when your time on this earth is through, You'll be remembered, but not for what you construe, Whose legacy shines, while yours fades from view. As the parent of four sons and one daughter true |