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Poem: Powder Keg

Momma and daddy were gasoline and gunpowder
Playing at least once a week with matches
Until someone exploded into a raging inferno
Large enough that we feared it would consume us
No one ever died but we all had scars from the burns
That never quite healed despite the passing of years
After losing a tooth defending momma over dinner
I packed my bags and hitched a ride out of town
Ready to trust my life more to strangers than family
Until I was able to hop a train heading west
Chasing the sun across the plains and unknown
Wandering lonely roads I still haven’t found a home
Knowing loneliness is owed to the burns I got there
Growing up in a powder keg where love held hate
All I can say for myself is I’m still working on it
Trying with each step to escape the bonfire
Still burning in me even now many miles from home

Copyright © 2021 TJS Sherman All rights reserved.

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10 thoughts on “Poem: Powder Keg

      1. I’ve asked myself the same thing countless times and every time I think I’ve found what I would call “home,” it turns out I’m wrong. I guess some of us spend our whole lives searching for something that just doesn’t seem to exist. And because we want it so badly, we sometimes convince ourselves we’ve found it when we really haven’t.

        Liked by 1 person

  1. This was very well written and got me from the very first line. I was hoping this was more imaginative than autobiographical, but it seems it might be the latter. (Your word pictures are imaginative, of course.) I hope you continue to work on it and find peace.

    Liked by 1 person

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