poetry

Nature/Nurture

Submitted in a poetry anthology, 2014, AS Creative Writing. 

You can roll your tongue,
And you got it from your Mother.
You’re hair colour is your grandmothers
(Father’s side).

You learned to bite back
From TV, and teen teardowns,
and it made me laugh,
(and cry and rage and want to die)

You’re eyes look like your Father’s
but his have laugh lines and yours
examine my faults.
(How similar to your mother)

You learned to punch,
when you were nine.
You punched the wall once.
(I was scared I could crumble like that plaster)

You smile like your brothers;
easily, often, and brilliantly,
with chubby cheeks, and crooked teeth.
(Only not so often anymore)

You got your anger from me.
I pushed, and pushed,
and formed it in fire
(like a ancient smith makes swords)

(How proud I am, to have helped make you).

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