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Letter to my Dead Parents

January 17, 2020

I’m decluttering.
Whatever shall I do with your treasures?
They hide
in front of me,
whispering how they worked
to shape who you were.

They distort
who I want to be,
cluttering my hopes
with their commands,
demanding I become
subject to their shaping.

Forgive me: I have accepted
only some of your gifts.

3 Comments leave one →
  1. January 17, 2020 11:59 am

    A very good poem.

  2. Bogda permalink
    January 17, 2020 8:03 pm

    Ooooo They forgive You! You are THE FAVORITE DAUGHTER !πŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œ

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