The Vase iAM POETRY 2020
The vase is broken and everyone has a different story as to how it fell apart The mother would tell you the children spoke to it too harshly Shush shush don’t question me in front of the vase Listen to your mother, she would say But the children disobeyed and so one day the vase had had enough and broke itself into smithereens It was the children’s fault, really. The vase is broken And the son, who was the eldest, tells a different story By his account, it was his sister’s fault She always moved too quickly She never paid any mind to her surroundings She was careless and so, it was she, who caused the vase to shatter So he says. The daughter would tell you It was the mother of course who took one too many swings at a fragile, vulnerable thing in the name of tough love It was the mother’s fault Undoubtedly
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But the grandchildren Not yet two and three respectively They will tell you We don’t know how or why the vase broke We just found it that way
