Maturity Called For

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

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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13 comments

  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.

    Liked by 1 person

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