Poem #179

I guess I am my father’s daughter.
Finding any excuse to fall into my old habits
One hand on the bottle, smoke coming from the other.
Always having an explanation for my wrongdoings.
I never let happiness linger in the room, I smash
the walls to let it out. I thought it was the
poet inside of me trying to find inspiration in pain
but I guess it’s my father’s damn legacy making
me destroy peace wherever I set foot in.

I guess I am my father’s daughter.
Never let anyone’s opinion bother me.
The world is a nasty place, I heal my wounds in
alcohol and cigarettes. As I grow older I understand
him more and more and instead of seeing him
for the monster he was I see the monster’s cub
growing bigger in the mirror.

I guess I am my father’s daughter.
Let’s drink to the legacy you left me with daddy.

13 thoughts on “Poem #179

  1. I can relate to this and pain can lead to a beautiful inspiration I agree, even though at the end, the same pain will become redundant, life is much more complex than the lush life, at least from my part.
    Thanks for sharing

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It is difficult seeing our parents’ worst habits or attributes taking form in us, but acknowledging it is perhaps one way to go about changing it. Beautiful poem with a dark message. Thank you for it!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. No inheritance in any nefarious form is required to be accepted as today’s fashion of wear. Starting with an honest rejection to be a conduit of all that ugliness makes you more naturally beautiful to yourself and the world. Some of us see beyond the pale veils even if you can’t see…us, my friend. Be blessed…


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