Middling Sort

Father is Irish, mother: English

Match made in hell. 

They bicker about their spawn 

whether we are more one than the other 

My father's brothers are blue-eyed, ruddy, proud jutted jaws

My mother is hazel and earthy 

Both lineages bred clever men and strong women: the middling sort 

My eyes are murky mimicries of my mothers' 

I look Slavic, German, some even ask Greek

My father tried to name one of the girls Maeve but it didn't turn out 

I'm a Mutt 

I look like one too 

It makes me ashamed 

🌷(2)

◄ Wrung Out

Doctor's Visit ►

Comments

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Stephen Gospage

Thu 15th Aug 2024 10:29

A fascinating poem, Max. The conclusion is sad but the content is beautifully phrased and thought out.

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