Amelie Inge

Silence between us

In the shadows where familial echoes reside,

A tale unfolds, a father's pain, a turbulent ride.

His past, a storm, etched in the folds of time,

Yet, as a child, I carry a burden, not of my crime.


You, the sage, should have known,

Yet, I drifted into the unknown, in your despair prone.

I bear no blame for the storms of your past,

Wounds not of my making, yet I feel the cast.


My mother, emerging humane from her past,

Carries burdens differently.

Why does she not pass on her trauma's weight?

While you, my father, perpetuate a cyclical fate.


My brother, shares similar words,

Yet spared from your fury, a peculiar world.

For him, you wear a benevolent father's guise,

While my yearning for presence never complies.


At times, I ponder if our destinies intertwine,

Both bereft, his mother gone, a fate malign.

Comparing an absent father to a departed mother,

A thought surfaces.


I feel remorse for the sorrows you've known,

Yet, perplexed as to why similar seeds are sown.

Why inflict on me what caused you pain,

A cycle perpetuated, a loss hard to explain.


Convinced, at times, it affects me less than thought,

Yet, love patterns reveal battles I've fought.

In the quiet of night, beneath my cover's shield,

I bite into despair, emotions fiercely concealed.


As time passes, silence between us grows,

Deeper awareness, the apathy it shows.

Shouldn't my silence prompt deeper concern,

A plea for remorse, an apology to discern?


A distance widens, my resolve takes flight,

No longer enduring the silence, the endless night.

Uncertain if my stance is right or wrong,

Yet yielding for years, I can no longer prolong.


Is it truly as dire as my heart may say?

I share with friends, and refuge they lay.

Offering shelter, a glimpse of the storm,

Reminding me, it's not merely the norm.


Afraid of myself, glimpses of you I see,

Denying the DNA that binds you to me.

Yearning for an embrace, yet anger prevails,

A child's longing against adult's travails.


Goodness in you, sometimes I see,

Defending against the storm within me.

Yet, memories resurface, the sadness prevails,

A complex dance where compassion derails.


Not a villain, I know you to be,

Yet, in those moments, you're a mystery to me.

All rights belong to its author. It was published on by demand of Amelie Inge.
Published on on 01/16/2024.


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