Lawrence S. Pertillar
Today...The Kids Make The Demands - Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
I am not going to say,
One of my three sisters and I...
Were model children growing up.
Although we were told,
We had faces of angels.
And upon hearing those say this,
My mother would smile knowing...
Whenever my mother disciplined us,
She would describe in detail...
What was about to happen.
And 'then' sent us out looking for a good 'switch'.
Meaning? Pick a nice twig off of a bush outside.
Clean it of its leaves...
And bring it to her to inspect before she whipped us,
For not doing what we were told to do in the first place.
Confusing but so effective!
There were moments of contradictions and dysfunctions...
When applying my mother's punishments to our misdeeds,
We did not question or argue.
AND 'if' I should raise my eyebrow as if to disagree...
Just the doing of it would deliver that switch to my behind.
My mother did not play when she told us to do as she said.
The only thing that bothered me was her crying after whipping us.
The kids make the demands.
And not a tear to dropp from their eyes.
Kids will call 911 to report child abuse.
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