From birth, we are taught to forgive
the unforgiving; to comfort the comfortable;
to tighten the shackles of shame;
to crave the bitter because we are told
it is sweet. Eat, they say. And so,
we eat, we swallow, we ask—politely—
for seconds. We sit together on the floor,
dirtying our skirts, united in our longing
for a seat at the table our grandfathers built,
while we eat the scraps of America's king
who, we are told, eats the scraps of God.
YOU ARE READING
THE TWENTY SECOND YEAR
PoetryAt birth, we are all sentenced to life- to live. Highest Rankings: #4 in poembook #4 in poemcollection © z. t. corley, 2024
