Man of My House

Seventeen: Ten thousand voices grab me and swing me through the Autumn air as I try to figure out how I got to this college campus.

Sixteen: I am the Sun and everybody else is the universe revolving around me. I guess I should have paid attention in science and realized that the Sun isn't the center.

Fifteen: I break my teeth biting off the shackles on my wrists. Does my mom think that I'm still...

Fourteen? A first, brief romance fills my nostrils with rose and leaves lemon juice in my mouth.

Thirteen: Please don't leave me alone at high school, mom.

Twelve: Dad's been gone.

Eleven: Please don't leave Dad.

Ten: Mom can't drive me to my game. Her eyes are wet but it hasn't rained in weeks.

Nine through Five: Fuzzy puzzles fall in place inside my head. Sometimes I feel like my memories are made up.

Four: We finally moved out of the apartment although I only watch this in old pictures.

Three: Those family pictures on the mantle of Mom and Dad and me.

Two: I've been at college for a couple days now and my mind can't think straight, I wish I still had

One Dad who always played, smiled, inspired, loved; swung, fished, fixed, hugged.


I must become the Man of my (new) House. 



This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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