Sunday, September 4, 2011

Recycling Relatives

I just can't hide it anymore;
The inside me keeps popping out.
But there are so few who want to know
What we're really all about.

I have spent my life changing myself
To please my current community,
Accepting all suggestions for
How to be a better me.

My grandmothers and mother
All said I was too wild.
A sister accused me of attempting
To steal her husband and child.

When my mother told me my troubles
Were caused by my past sins
It was very difficult for me
To continue to let her in.

Another sister told me
That I was no more fun,
When a depression layed me low,
And I didn't know where to run.

My husband was also depressed
But he didn't even know it.
Men are, after all,
Taught never to show it.

My nephew who asked for our help
In making peace with his brother
Has sent accusations that I've wronged him
To my sisters and my brothers.

A brother whose wife I love has said
He never wants to talk to me again,
And now I seem to have forever
Lost his wife as a dear friend.

My sister who was like my baby
Has finally spoken her truth to me;
She said that I've been stupid
In helping others for free.

I simply had to come home to
Where I have deeply loving friends,
Who don't care if I don't change,
Or if, into their family lives, I blend.

Where is the recycle center for
All the baggage from our pasts,
The people we collected
Before they woke us up, at last?

1 comment:

  1. That's a novel idea ... a recycling center for the old baggage from the past! Why not? Maybe someone could make use of them? ☺ ☺