Before

220px-Cerebral_lobes[1]

The feelings I remember from my youth
were anger and impatience with my lot
of noodgy mom, protective dad – in truth,
if I’d sufficient freedom, I forgot
(and that’s not likely – I recorded notes
in poems and diaries and journals too.
Or maybe I was better-loved than most,
and thus equipped to recollect what’s true).

My rookie parents meant the best for me
but lacked experience and confidence.
I had to craft my own maturity
through trauma felt at five. Intelligence
enabled me to prosper since that time,
but early loving care was surely mine.

This entry was posted in Family, Personality, Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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