Poem -

Into the wild

An insight into parentification by me and illustrator eve b

Into the wild

Into the wildĀ 

When I grow upĀ 
Go out into the wildĀ 
Will my adult be spentĀ 
A parentified child?Ā 

My dad was the mane circus act
Trampoline, trapezeĀ 
When he remembers bad times
I put his mind at easeĀ 

Physical scars healĀ 
The emotional ones remainĀ 
Generational cycleĀ 
He passes on the painĀ 

He drinks, I do the huntingĀ 
Provide 24 hour careĀ 
My father and IĀ 
Role reversed pairĀ 

Cant really blame himĀ 
Heā€™s been through a lotĀ 
Suppose it should fall on me
Iā€™m all heā€™s gotĀ 

I do hope he gets betterĀ 
At least sometime soonĀ 
I live under the shadowĀ 
Of his doom and gloomĀ 

Donā€™t mean to play the victimĀ 
Heā€™s the one thatā€™s troubled
But the impact of the abuse heā€™s facedĀ 
Make the trouble doubledĀ 

So, I wonder..Ā 

When I grow upĀ 
Go out into the wildĀ 
Will my adulthood be spentĀ 
As a parentified child?

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Comments

author
Marion

Clever write...this is how it goes if you're female
Helping mam with siblings
Looking after hubby
Looking after kids
Looking after grandkids
Looking after parents
Dead.
ā€‹ā€‹Enjoy ....šŸ˜†šŸ’ž

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author
Gwendoline

I think Marion said it all. I did enjoy the flow you gave this write. The tables do seem to turn as we get older. I felt the worry in your words. A nice writeĀ 

Gwen x

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author
John Loopstra

Recognize a lot of my wife's life in this poem, (her mum the source, but in her father's ancestry is a long ownership of a small circus and many performing musicians all crooked by ancestry as a parentified child traumatised for life. Gidd one from the heartšŸ˜¢

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