combined with everlasting judgment,
Betrayal and bickering result in,
“You go your way, and I'll go mine”
“She's your sister!” you may say,
But how can that be,
When you don't know the soul that lives inside,
Conversations are never interrupted with phone calls from my bloodline,
No birthdays, holidays, or compassionate acts of kindness,
“He's your brother!” I may hear,
But how can that be?
When our resemblance is no longer of relevance,
A once sacred bond is now a distant memory,
The fake “hellos” and awkward “Goodbyes”,
Have become our current situation,
Our crumbling reality,
“Where is my bloodline?”
I look behind every door,
And anticipate a voicemail with every call,
It saddens me to say,
My bloodline is...
Copyright © Deven Small | Year Posted 2019
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