The Weight Poem by Minnie Gehrig

father weighs heavy on the weight of the son,
n my brothers bear this,
across there brows,
as my father did n his father before,

while the daughters
wrestle the
weight of there mothers,

n this day doesn't give way to the traditions,
we were taught,
now ashes in the fireplace,

traditions that bury us alive,
just trying to survive
n a world that doesn't even
believe itself,

n the teachings are weights against our ankles,
we drown
spit water,
fight for the surface,

n the breathing here its shallow,
wanting to be so much more
than this world allows,

n working for crumbs,
bringing home poverty in
wonderfully wrapped laments,

the time we want to spend at home,
unwinds around the bosses brows,
8 hours of slavery,
seconds go by

n we age ungracefully
unhappily
against the weight of the love
we can't give.