When I can, I will be contributing poetry from prompts from my Poet's Group, The Baker's Dozen (as we refer to ourselves.)
Today was a free prompt.
With your clenched jaw and chin thrust forth,
You held yourself on the air beneath your feet
So as to appear taller.
Gathered with your conceit,
Your receding hairline drove you to despair,
And your vanity
Led to shattered mirrors…
Shattered friendships …
(Vanished in anguish and e-meters).
Born on D-Day,
When others were declaring peace,
We heard each June the endless tales of
The mother you never knew and
Your father’s refusal to wake up
One morning in the tainted childhood
Of your abandonment.
Your disastrous placement
With a family who shared your childish disdain,
Equally foolish until they lost you
Where we found you,
And held you for a brief time,
In the company of our fools.
You suspected you were Tutankhamen
In some past lifetime
And how could we dispute
A man who thought he should be king
Of some small fiefdom.
When we sought in later years to find you
And eventually learned you were dead
We hoped you finally were able
To rest in peace.