This is an entry for the #MTM poetry contest, view this to know about the contest.
The fruit of my father's sin
They say I am the fruit of my father's sin
That I am the reason life ground to a halt
The reason for my mother's tears
The reason the birds refused to sing
That my aura brought bouquets of tears
They say I am that fruit of my father's weakness
That his sin was the soil that formed my fruit
They say I am the reason my mother's womb
shrank the night after the full moon.
They say I am the mirror of
father's dream that didn't come to pass
That his might fled him because
I refused to die before cock crow
They say I am a mirror that burns bridges
That my corners are so dark
Light rays that try to pass through me are buried in a heap of darkness
They say my memory brings pains
They say I brought upon the village
the mountains of floods
that swept away pillars of our home
That the hole at the bottom of our home
was carved the night I was born
They say I brought memories spiced with vinegar
That something about me
brings tears and despair
They say things that shoot arrows through my heart
They say life derailed
because my feet strayed into the shores of earth
They say I am the reminder of what should not have been
They say in my path, darkness reigns unfeigned
That death lurks in my pocket and,
destruction knows the voice of my nightly snore
They tell young children in the neighborhood not to cross my path
because my presence brings pain
That my breath sours the air
That pain snores under my mattress.
They say I am many things
Things I don't remember I ever was
But see,
What they say isn’t what I am
What I am isn't what they say
I am nothing like they paint me to be
Their opinions of me do not count
I am my own song,
I am not the broken chord of my father's voice
I am not the song that brings death
I am my own dream,
Not my father's failed dream.
