I’ll never be like my parents

I cross my arms like him.
When I sit, I raise them.
Above my head, they intertwine.
My fingers. And I say, “That’s fine.”

Every youth’s broken promise,
“I’ll never be like my parents.”
When you notice one day,
That’s something dad would say.

Some make the transition young,
Some deny the family tongue
Until they are old and gray
And their own children say,
“I’ll never be like my parents.” 


9 thoughts on “I’ll never be like my parents

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