Conversations with my Father

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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RachelFrank7

Drip 

 

Drip 

 

Drip

 

One by one they pour from my eyes 

They gush around me, overwhelming my senses

 

I just wanted to go one day

 

One day without the flood

I can’t remember a day there wasn’t one

 

You say I’m a puddle

That I’m weak 

You splash me around trying to mold me into the person you want me to be,

 

I’m not her. 

 

I’m not a puddle either.

I’m a river

But I keep going against the current, 

 

Your current, 

 

and now,

I’m drowning

But I’m learning how to swim

And I’ll be reaching land soon.

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