As an image
of the man mom left
and not part
of the family dad kept,
it was slowly
that insecurity crept.
My successes
were somehow muted,
feelings of pride
always diluted,
I was free
but rarely supported.
And now we try
for quality time
busy schedules
both theirs and mine.
Most real meaning
still between the lines.
This poem was posted for the previous week’s poetry prompt, Insecurity.
Poetry Prompts and Poems 