Tshiamo Jood Poet Free verse

THE LOVE OF MOVIES AND A GOOD BOOK

1.The Parable Of The First Son.

Struggle isn't a mistake,
But a beloved first child because there was no Plan b.
A bar raised as a measuring tape,
'Cause they grow up so fast.
And there's so much you could get wrong.
It is the eldest sibling raising parents to be better than.
It is my big sister talking about the then I cannot comprehend.
How I never had to, and I can be fine with everything being what it is.
It is how it's only a piece of her heart that my girl can ever give me,
She shares so much being her mother's child already. 
I want to love her as much more,
But I'm still a middle child in my demands.
Threatening to twist the red thread of fate joining lovers into an umbilical cord.
The tug of war in our dysfunction and one more burden she has to bear.
It is Esau making mountains out of molehills his dwelling, 
With the little blessings Isaac gave him.
It is the strength Leah had in a world not fair,
And Rachel sulking with resentment as a younger sister.
Being the oldest you learn to laugh in your conversation with God like Sarah,
Or do you deny your duty as your brother's keeper?.
Cleaning up the mess, it is hard to be impressed by hotel California.
Would, if she could, that we make our own beds.
You can check out, but can never leave.
The ties that bind us,
A stipulation written in red on my conscience.
Blood is thicker than water, so tears don't hold much weight
But it is then much easier to miss their accumulation
Till it is enough to kill us.
Was the madness of Jack Torrance perhaps anger?
What secrets the spirit of the child on a tricyle wishes it never knew?
She breaks down my doors as I shout to get her out of her trance,
We will not die this weekend.

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