Tired of This Old Guys Stories
During the quake of seventy-three I shivered and shook.
The rest of us stared at this guy, an ancient old cook.
The trembling that went on that day, gave me PTSD.
I looked at his granddaughter, glad he is no kin to me.
I am tired of these stories about disaster and such.
Living through Viet Nam War, and other ideas I can’t touch.
I am so far away from the man’s thinking I want to run away.
But Mom made this play date, so unfortunately, I must stay.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment