Parents Poem by Mark Pollins
Parents
Was it plasticine they received,
Or was it mud?
Did they try and reshape the wet concrete of my mind,
Or was I allowed to decide in which directions I wouldn’t grow?
Were plans drawn up, moral blueprints xeroxed and distributed,
Or was it a blind dash between shelters of hot cocoa and lies,
Protecting me from the monsoon of this life?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/4/2026 5:15:05 PM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
