I’m glad your Father shook with
The knife in hand.
The turkey remaining un-carved
As you carved him with those strong

Because you opened that door.
They locked you in.
You couldn’t take anymore,
And you couldn’t pretend.
Rise above that chant they roared and
Because you’ll be alright in the end.

Your Mother took a step out the room
I saw her through the serving hatch
Her arms trembling, deep breaths, sweating.
I believe you when you told me
she had never read a book.
It showed.
She was speechless
Versus your speech.

Because you knocked down that door
Busted the lock and all.
You have what you want, explore
Go for it.
Kick those people off the
And burn those letters with your pride.

This room is warmer
And my family non-toxic.
Tomorrow we’ll go bowling.
Drop the hilt, though,
Here we’re not governed
By sunlight through
Stained-glass windows.

Because you smashed down that door
You thought you were locked in.
Kicked it down so you could join him
And his friends
A duet
Of bravery
You’ll be.
No regrets.

I’m glad your Father shook with
The knife in hand
That turkey sat, remained cold on the table
And I wasn’t able
To speak.
You have given your bleak
Canvas colour.

One thought on “Colour

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