Poem: They

They tell you not to smoke,

hiding their lighters from your sight,

they tell you not to drink,

with their whiskey breath,

they tell you to take the stone now, tired from carrying it,

but never did they teach you how to hold it,

they are quick to speak on your wrongs,

but are dumb to your rights,

they wish you to be like the others,

those who they wish they were like,

but they don’t know themselves,

how can they know you?

 

They have no time to find themselves,

cause they work, work, work, sacrificing,

so that you can find yourself,

their lips speak of the mistakes,

but the same lips smile the next day,

they expect you to know the right way,

but understand when you go wrong,

they hold the stone with their calloused hands,

giving you the rest when you tire,

take your time, they say, I can hold it a while longer,

smelling of liquor,

contradicting words coming out slowly,

no contradiction in their thoughts,

lighters hidden,

they wish you happiness,

ignorant of it themselves,

for they were working, working, working, sacrificing,

themselves.

 

 

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