Shame runs deep
in the family;
there can be
absolutely no scars,
no signs that we
dared ask for help.
The shame is rooted
like how a baby bird
clings to its mother;
it just won't budge.
If I present a gift that
looks like a flower but
is perceived as a thorn,
is it still a gift?
What am I to do
with all the
pitying glares.
~ c.w
