Good-bye, Father
A plague has stricken this household.
Send for the priest,
Pray with all your might.
Neither will tame the fever.
Wrap yourself in blankets
And call for your mommy.
She cannot help.
Sneezing.
Coughing.
Medicine will do nothing.
Madness as black as night.
Death mocks your every move,
Your every thought.
Good-bye, Father.
Father of all plagues.
Send for the priest,
Pray with all your might.
Neither will tame the fever.
Wrap yourself in blankets
And call for your mommy.
She cannot help.
Sneezing.
Coughing.
Medicine will do nothing.
Madness as black as night.
Death mocks your every move,
Your every thought.
Good-bye, Father.
Father of all plagues.
I wrote this piece about my own feelings inside my household. I took the near hatred I have for my father and used that as fuel to write this poem. He doesn't understand that his actions don't just effect him...they effect everyone that lives with him.
It felt so good to finally get that idea, those feelings, off my chest. A weight had lifted off of my shoulders, and I felt as if I could actually breathe for the first time in months. And I don't feel bad for feeling this way. And I won't apologize for writing this. |
meaning:The plague described in this poem actually represents the mood of the household in response to the presence of the father figure. He has caused a dark, almost sickly, fog to cover the people living with him.
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