For those asking, hereās the full poem from my most recent edit:
Biology Class
āJust like his father.ā
itās a curse, spoken in hushed tones,
screamed like swords clashing,
it is grinding metal and cries of pain.
it is an omen spoken from hellfire,
his lineage will need to be baptized out of him.
āJust like his father.ā
he is a boy.
he carries the judgment
of another manās mistakes,
this burden was not his to begin with it,
but it now burns the lines from his palms.
his hands blister the longer he holds it,
eventually it is welded into his skin
like it was always a part of him.
they were the ones that put it in his hands
and they donāt even know it.
āJust like his father.ā
he has his fatherās eyes, and his arrogance,
but is it genetic or is he just a normal teenager
who thinks they know more than they do?
they havenāt given him a chance to grow.
he is not his father, he is just a boy
with all of youthās natural confidence.
they forget what itās like to live in a world
that expects you to be older than you are.
āJust like her mother.ā
it is said with resignation,
or irritation hidden under barbed teasing.
she carries exhaustion on her shoulders
and wears it like an apron rather than a cape.
she is apathetic in all of the ways
of a woman with a duty she never wanted.
she had responsibilities forced onto her
before she could even spell injustice.
āJust like her mother.ā
she has learned how to be sharp,
all of her girlish softness
has been beaten out of her.
she was raised in the lionās den
yet, they are surprised when she roars.
her hair is matted with the blood
of generations to come,
and she bears her teeth when she sees it.
āJust like her mother.ā
she is steely and strained,
she has her motherās calloused hands,
and her quiet rage.
she must be diligent to survive.
she made a deal with heaven and hell
the first time she ever bled.
they couldnāt kill her if they tried,
and thatās the beauty of her.
āJust like their parents.ā
it is an insult, even if it is not meant to be.
they are children raised in jail cells,
they carved the days into concrete walls
until their fingertips bled
and then they continued
until they had nothing left to give.
they made plans for escape that changed
in the delirium of a lifetime sentence.
āJust like their parents.ā
they don't look at themselves in the mirror,
they know who they will see there.
there is iron in every tear they spill,
and sweat in every drop of their blood.
they have been forged in the center of the sun,
unyielding in its potential,
unforgiving in its power.
āJust like their parents.ā
they are mistakes and they are regrets.
they have learned how to live
with the shadow of another life,
of somebodyās, what if?
they have learned about anger,
they have learned what love isnāt.
they think that they could do it better,
but isnāt that just the family curse?
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