PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Empires fragment.

The provinces become empires.

Divorce occurs.

New unions are possible.

But I was your child

Not something to be colonized.

Or maybe I was crazy

Because I thought you said

I was your child.



You saw me come home from school,

But you didn’t see the fat fag

Roaming the high school halls.

Or the scrawny punk

Who still had something to hide.

You whined about your childhood

And expected me to appreciate mine.

I appreciated my time

Spent in cities and urban sprawl.

Then I was punished for the mud and the holes.



There was something twisted inside of me

When I saw good-looking youths walking past me.

I had to keep quiet

Because you told me I would fall in love

With a female.

One with large breasts,

I would add.

Then I had to be shamed

Because I had kept quiet

For too long.

You decided to be tolerant.



You expected me to fall in line

Because you had laid claim to me.

Because I had been ripped from your stomach

That many years ago.

Because you failed to see

I had attempted to escape

Many times

Since the original departure.

You expected me to call you mother

If you could prove

I was a child.

Or maybe you were just bitter

Because I was too young to be your father.

Maybe you were just playing games

Because it’s hard to stick your fingers inside of you

When you have your own sons

In the bed with you.



And you were a fool

To see it as some war of independence.

It was an Empire

Making its own assertions.