Maturity Called For

We are children, all
in our rawest moments,
our needs, like snot
running unattended,
our cries, like tantrums

We are related, all
the distance between us
defined only by miles,
our DNA infinitely linked –
does this mean we’ve
abandoned one another?

Sold out our familial roots,
in favour of separation,
easier to promote self
than feel obligated
to distant masses –
unfamiliar, unwanted.

How do we proceed
from here, our awakening
late in coming, our duties
overdue, and the shortfalls
of addictions rendering
our priorities askew?

We are children, all
our needs universal,
a caring governance
craved, overlooked
by those who play
at being adults.




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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

13 thoughts on “Maturity Called For”

  1. “We are children, all”. You are so right. We may age, but we never really do grow up, yet we “crave” attention from one’s who should know better, and don’t. Lovely piece, V.J. Really beautifully written.

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  2. “caring governance craved” … and yet, we have been conditioned to distrust those who purport to provide such … the distrust intensifying exponentially. Yikes. (Good poem, good call.)

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